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#but i think that’s part of what relationships force you to do
helen-with-an-a · 12 hours
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I am an Adult pt 3
Hi. So I wasn't planning to do a part 3 of the series but I got a request and it was really cute/funny so I thought why not ahaha.
Barca Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3
Word Count: 3.3k
Description: R gets a girlfriend
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It took a lot of work to find the right balance. The give and take, knowing where to push and where to pull. That fine line between knowing when to go to the team for help and doing it yourself.
After the events of last Spring, you had been better at relying on the girls for essential things, and they had been better at asking you about them without nagging. You sent a picture of critical legal dates to Alexia, who would set a reminder to ask you about them a week or so before the actual deadline. She felt like she was checking up on you and helping you without you feeling smothered. It was fantastic.
And then you got a girlfriend.
Initially, Your crush was slight, something you could repress and squash down. But then you played her in the Champions League group stages. Wolfsburg and Barcelona were drawn in the same group by some bizarre coincidence or the universe interfering in your love life.
Lena was so sweet and kind; it was crazy. You first interacted when you had to do some media together. UEFA media decided to do ‘head-to-head’ videos where some players from each team had to do videos, interviews, and challenges together. And with another stroke of luck – or divine intervention once again – you and Lena were paired together. You were caught off guard by how gentle she was. On the pitch, she was a force to be reckoned with solid tackles and her fearlessness of a yellow card. That was the only impression you had of her. Of course, you had stalked her social media for months, so you knew she seemed like a fantastic friend. But off the pitch, it was like a switch had flipped. She was so soft, it was unreal – always asking if you were ok with the questions she was asking and checking in with you after challenges. It was making your head spin in the most fantastic way.
“What do I do?” You asked Ona over coffee. She was the one person you trusted with this secret.
“Well, well, well. Where has the confident, cocky, ‘I’m so good with girls’ Y/N gone?” She joked. You had never experienced these feelings before, and you were panicking slightly.
“Ugh, never mind. If you’re just going to make fun of me-” you shook your head, starting to gather your things.
“No, wait, hey, c’mon. Do you seriously like her?” Ona grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving.
“I … I don’t know. I think so, but I don’t do relationships. I never have. It’s just been one-night stands and friends-with-benefit type things. Casual sex. Never anything more. I don’t do more.”
“Well, neither do I,” Ona cut in. You raised an eyebrow at her.
“Want me to tell that to Lucy?” You said sarcastically, chuckling at her deep blush. “Ona, c’mon, I’m serious. I really like her,” you all but begged.
“Ok, ok. No hay necesidad de preocuparse. If you really like her, just ask her out for coffee, or dinner, or to the movies, or something. Just be your normal self. You know you have game. I’ve seen the number of girls you’ve brought back after nights out. So just be your charming self, flirt a little, and ask her on a date.” You nodded at her words. Flirting, you could do. Charming, you could do. Asking her out on a date … you hoped you could do.
You asked her out after the first leg. It was in Barcelona, so you messaged her to see if she wanted to see the sights. You knew she wasn’t going home until 2 days after the match, so on her off-day. You knew it was slightly unconventional to ask someone out via text, but you think you might never do it if you asked in person.
Y/N💙❤️: Do u want to go to see some stuff in Barcelona with me on ur day off?? x
Lena💚: By rselves? Like a date???
Y/N💙❤️: Yes x
Y/N💙❤️: Would u like to go on a date with me on ur day off??
Lena💚: Yes
Lena💚: I’ll send you the hotel details. I could meet u at like 10? 11?
Y/N💙❤️:  I’ll pick u up at 10 outside the hotel – wear comfy shoes!!! <3
Lena💚: Can’t wait 😁
The day was beautiful; you took her to a little bakery for breakfast – laughing a few hours away over good coffee and excellent food. You then spent the morning doing the touristy things before having lunch at a tapas place, again not noticing the time passing as you giggled and sent longing stares at each other. The afternoon was filled with more happiness as you showed her the quieter spots and your favourite places to relax. Dinner was a classic paella, finally drawing up the courage to hold her hand on your way back to drop her off.
You were just around the corner from her hotel when you pulled her to stop.
“Um … I had a perfect day today.” You said as you shuffled closer,
“Me too,” she replied, softly pushing some hair away from your face. You licked your lips, staring at hers. She slowly leant in, her eyes flicking between your lips and eyes. You leant in, too; you were so close to kissing her – one slight adjustment at you would be.
A car horn sounded right next to you, making you both spring apart. Fuck!
“I … um … I better get going,” Lena said, gesturing towards the hotel. You could tell she was a little disappointed
“Yeh, no, I get it. Just … text me, yeh? Maybe you could show me around Wolfsburg when we travel to you guys?” you said nervously, not meeting her warm brown eyes.
“Hey,” she called softly, using her free hand to grasp your chin and make you look into her eyes. “I will absolutely be showing you around my home. We will definitely be doing this again,” she said with certainty. You felt your heart jump at the idea of a second date with Lena. She squeezed your hand before she left, looking back with a soft smile as she went.
Y/N💙❤️: SPOTIFY LINK – One Direction, ‘I Should Have Kissed You’:  https://www.spotify......
Lena💚: SPOTIFY LINK – Odeal, ‘Next Time’: https://www.spotify.......
After the second leg, Lena took you to a Christmas Market, saying that even though it was only November, you had to experience one. It was lovely. You laughed, ate too much food, and drank too much hot chocolate and mulled wine. As she took you back to your hotel, you came to a stop, much like you had in Barcelona.
“Can I actually kiss you this time?” You asked her.
“Bitte Küsse mich.” You didn’t speak German, but she clarified her intentions as she put a hand on your hip, shuffling closer until your breaths mingled. Her lips were soft and rough and warm and cold all at once. It was perfect. The world stopped spinning momentarily as you slowly let your tongue explore.
“Mein Gott” she said as you parted.
“Guess I’m going to need German lessons.” You laughed, pressing your lips back on hers.
“Don’t worry, I know a willing teacher,” she said as you separated again.
Your relationship was semi-secret; text exchanges left you giddy, hushed phone calls left you too-smiley, and facetimes were taken as you hurried from the rooms. Everyone could tell something was different, and most people could guess that it was probably down to a person; they just couldn’t figure out who.
“Alright, out with it. Who’s got you so smiley?” Patri asked as she sat on your sofa. You were having a younger girls' night—like you do most evenings. Patri, Pina, Esmee, Ona, Jana, Martina, Vicky, Bruna, Cata … it was a bit of a squeeze in your one-bedroom flat, but you made it work.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as you smiled into your glass.
“Oh, please. You’ve been smiling away, laughing, and being disgustingly cute. Who is it?” Jana swatted your thigh at your non-answer.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” you stuck your tongue out at her.
“Don’t make us do detective work!” Martina threatened, pulling up her phone and going onto your social media.
“It’s recent, so check who she’s recently started following,” Vicky suggested. You were so grateful that you had been following Lena for years since you had played against her at club and national levels.
“It happened after the group stages,” Ona chimed in. You threw her an offended glare. You knew she wouldn’t actively spill your secret, but you had hoped she wouldn’t join in on the hunt for the identity of your girlfriend.
“You know something, Ona!” Pina accused, a finger coming to point at her. “You know who it is, don’t you?” They soon switched from interrogating you to Ona. Logically, it was the smartest move; Ona could crack very easily. It’s how you found out about Lucy – you had just narrowed your eyes at her for slightly too long, and she broke, spilling everything to you when she stayed the night a few months ago. You watched, somewhat amused, as Ona squirmed, avoiding eye contact, ducking her head, biting her lip. She was close to spilling everything. You knew she was terrified of telling secrets that weren’t hers, but she couldn’t help it.
“Alright, guys. Enough. Stop interrogating her.” You broke up the onslaught of questions, moving from your sofa seat to the chair she was curling up in. You could tell she was close to tears, and you didn’t want to do that to her – you knew she already felt guilty enough. You shuffled her around a bit before pulling her onto your lap.
“Right, you get 5 hints. If you can’t guess it from them, then I can’t help you. And no more asking Ona!” You glared at them all, ensuring they understood how serious you were. “Right, she’s German. She plays in Germany. She’s a midfielder. We’re similar ages. She’s made her senior international debut in 2019.” You watched as the group dissolved into loud discussion.
“Lo siento mucho. No querías que nadie lo supiera y ahora...” Ona hurried out, close to tears again.
“Hey, no, no, no. It’s ok, Oni,” you reassured her as you kissed her forehead. “No es tu culpa. I promise you. I do not blame you.” She nodded and buried her head back against your collarbone, watching the carnage in front of you. You quietly laughed to each other at the scene – Wikipedia was pulled up on everyone’s phones, the German national team website as well as they speculated on who you were seeing. You slowly pulled your phone out, quickly texting Lena.
Y/N💙❤️: Like ½ my team are tryna guess my girlfriend rn x
Y/N💙❤️: Do u mind if I say yes if they guess it right? x
Lena💚: ahahahahaha
Lena💚: No, I don’t mind. R u gonna tell them who I am if they get it wrong tho?
Y/N💙❤️: Whichever u want x
Y/N💙❤️: I don’t mind telling them x
Y/N💙❤️: Would make it easier when I disappear to Germany for a few days and u suddenly turn up in my Barca jersey
Y/N💙❤️: I want to tell them about u x
Lena💚: Tell em
Lena💚: Can I tell my team?
Y/N💙❤️: Omg yesssss xxxxxxxxxxxx
Lena💚: also – I will never wear a barca jersey!!
Lena💚: Even if it does have ur name on the back 🤢
Y/N💙❤️: ugh RUDE.
Y/N💙❤️: But ud still be my WAG tho right? x
Lena💚: I’ll always be ur wag hehe
Y/N💙❤️: so kind of u x
Y/N💙❤️: I’ll always be ur wag too btw x
“Alright, alright. We have 2 possible answers.” Bruna turned around with a notebook in her hand. Where did they get that from? “Our first guess, we think, is less likely. Klara Bühl. She’s German, plays for Bayern, is a midfielder, and debuted in 2019. You’re similar in age. But we haven’t played Bayern in a while. So, how would you have met? So, we don’t think it’s her.” She paused, staring at your carefully crafted neutral expression. You met Klara once; she was lovely. She handed the notebook over to Cata. “Our final guess is one we think is pretty true,” Cata explained, adjusting herself to sit cross-legged before you. “We played Wolfsburg at the Champions League group stages, and you disappeared for the whole day the day after and came back all smiley. So, we have reason to believe it’s a Wolfsburg player.” You didn’t realise how seriously they were taking this. “But … most of the Wolfsburg team are German, but not all of them are German midfielders that debuted for the national team in 2019.” She paused dramatically. You knew she had figured it out. “That’s why our final guess is …” another final pause.
“Oberdorf,” Patri shouted out, clearly over Cata’s dramatics. “You’re dating Oberdorf.”
“Oi. Aquesta havia de ser la meva revelació” Cata lunged at Patri, loud shouts of Catalan descending on the house.
“D'acord, d'acord,” you shouted over the noise as you saw a wine bottle wobble precariously as someone knocked into the table. “Sí, Lena is my girlfriend.” You admitted. If you thought the noise was loud before, you were deafened by the cacophony that descended on you. You buried your head in Ona’s hair, laughing as your friends melted into chaos.
You knew that once the younger ones found out who your girlfriend was, it was only a matter of time before the older ones did. You hadn’t expected it to be the next day, however. You were in the changing rooms, chatting to Patri and Pina as you prepared for the session ahead of you. The door banged open, and you were met with an outraged Lucy. As she stalked towards you, you glanced at a very guilty-looking Ona.
“She looked at me.” Ona defended herself.
“Grow a backbone, Oni.” You shouted as Lucy dragged you from the room, remembering to add a nickname in so she knew you weren’t that mad at her.
You were dragged to an empty conference room. Alexia, Paños, Marta, Mariona, Caro, and Irene were already sitting on one side of the table. Lucy pushed you into the single seat opposite them and took her place next to Irene. You sat in silence for a full 3 minutes before anyone spoke.
“Is there something you want to tell us, cariño?” Alexia asked smoothly, folding her hands in front of her like she was conducting a business meeting.
“Ona needs to learn how to toughen up.” You weren’t too angry with Ona, but it slightly annoyed you that she had cracked so easily. You wanted to tell the older girls yourself to avoid this situation.
“Leave her out of it.” Lucy jumped in. You clicked your teeth at her, flicking your hand in her direction, dismissing her protest.
“You have a girlfriend,” Irene stated, bringing the conversation back on track.
“Ja, das tue ich,” you said, chuckling at their reaction to your German. They didn’t fully understand you but knew ‘yes’ in most languages. You could see Caro laughing slightly – she had played for Wolfsburg; she knew you were using your newfound language to irritate them.
“And you didn’t tell us?” Marta asked
“Ja, das ist richtig,” you smiled.
“Cut the crap, pequeña.” Paños hit the table, making you jump slightly.
“Bien. Si tanto quieres saber,” you snapped. “Yes, I have a girlfriend. I’m sure you already know who, but it’s Lena. I asked her out after our home Wolfsburg game. She asked me out after her home leg. We’ve been dating for a couple of months now. I really like her. Anything else you want to know?” You asked Alexia directly. You could see the internal battle – the desire to know everything about your new relationship with her promise to treat you more grown up.
“Everyone, out,” Alexia instructed after a minute, using her captain’s voice to show she was serious. “Cariño, please stay?” She asked. You nodded as the others left. Caro seemed to find this whole thing funny, but everyone else was grumbling and muttering about how they found it rude that you didn’t tell them and that you were too young for a girlfriend. “I thought we promised to tell each other things like adults?” She asked you.
“I know. The others only found out yesterday if it makes you feel any better. Ona’s known for a while, but only because I asked her for help.” You sat back in your chair, careful to leave your posture open.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” She seemed a little upset by your actions.
“I didn’t want this to happen. We’ve finally found a balance. And I knew that this would disrupt that balance. And it’s so new; I didn’t want to tell you guys until I knew what we were, and it’s only really been a few months. She asked me to be her girlfriend at New Year’s, so …” you trailed off, hoping that she understood where you were coming from.”
“Entenc. But cariño, why didn’t you tell me?” She asked again.
“I … I don’t know.” You did know. You knew exactly why you didn’t tell her. And she knew it, too. “Ok … well … I didn’t … I didn’t want you to treat me like a child again. Relationships are new to me. I can do the … physical …” you both cringed slightly, not entirely comfortable with those topics just yet, “side of relationships fine. But emotions. They’re new to me. And I wanted to figure it out for myself first. I went to Ona ‘cos she’s my best friend. One that needs to learn how to resist interrogation better, but she’s still my best friend.”
“Don't be too hard on her, pequeña. She meant well. And I get why you didn’t come to me first. But can I ask a few questions?” She watched as you left your seat, coming around to her side of the table, and sitting on her lap.
You sighed, “ask away.” She laughed as she squeezed your waist.
“Does she treat you well?”
“Sí,” you answered honestly.
“Do you treat her well?”
“I think so. I hope so.” You smiled at her concern for Lena
“Can we meet her?”
“As long as you guys don’t give her the talk, then yes.” She leant back to look at your face.
“Can I give her the talk?” You sighed.
“Sí,” you relented, not missing the flicker of excitement that passed over her face.
“When is she coming to Barcelona?”
“Our way game Èl Clasíco matches with a free weekend for her. She’s meeting me in Madrid.” You laughed as she pushed you off her lap, standing up and rushing to the door. “Where are you going?”
“To prepare my speech. Alba never let me do a charla de hermana mayor to her partners, so this might be my only chance.” You laughed at her enthusiasm. She indeed was like your big sister – annoying most of the time, infuriating some of the time, but just a big, goofy kid at heart looking out for everyone around her.
Y/N💙❤️: U might wanna prepare urself now x
Lena💚: WHY???
Lena💚: WHAT DID U DO????
Y/N💙❤️: Alexia knows
Y/N💙❤️: She’s very excited to meet my girlfriend x
Y/N💙❤️: She’s planning a speech x
Lena💚: I am dead
Lena💚: I am going to die
Lena💚: Will u still love me if I’m dead????
Y/N💙❤️: She wont kill u
Y/N💙❤️: I wont let her xxx
Y/N💙❤️: Yes, I will still love u if ur dead xx
I hope you liked it <3<3<3
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Behind Closed Doors - Max Verstappen
Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Summary: Max has a secret girlfriend, she might not have been happy about it at first but she'll warm up to him. He just has to keep how he got into the relationship secret. Or he'd lose everything, including her.
Theme/warnings: Abduction, stockholm syndrome, smut (dub con kind of, she's initially asleep but never attempts to stop him), manipulation
No part 2 requests please - Also bc of this not being my usual content I haven't put the taglist on just incase someone who usually reads my fics would rather not read darker content
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There's perks to being a millionaire. Perks to the power that comes with being Max Verstappen.
Including facilitating the kidnapping of the young woman lying in his bed right now.
She looks so peaceful. So perfect.
Y/n has been with him for a couple days and she is never happy to wake up to him. But he can see he's slowly breaking her down by actually treating her with love and care.
It's just...he's forcing her to accept that love and care.
He isn't silly. He did everything he needed to in order to make sure she quit her job, by emailing her boss her notice. Thankfully she doesn't see her family much anywhere so sending them small messages here and there was enough for them to not be a bother.
Y/n finally wakes up and immediately looks to check, then practically sighing in defeat when she looks at Max. She seems to wake up every morning wishing it was all just a horrible dream.
"Good morning, beautiful." Max smiles while she just keeps herself quiet for a few beats seeming to consider her words and actions carefully.
"Morning." Y/n mumbles before she finds herself pulled over into a hug and his lips press to her cheek.
Her body tries to fight off the fact she's feeling a lot of comfort from the close proximity but eventually her body can't fight it, relaxing down against him.
"Are you hungry?" Max asks softly making her swallow.
She'd tried a hungry strike, but Max very quickly managed to get her to eat and he wouldn't even say it really took much effort. He just got her what happened to be her favourite meal and that quickly proved to get her to cave into her hunger.
"Not right now." Y/n mumbles earning a nod.
One thing Max wouldn't admit to anyone but himself, y/n is hard to read. She masks her thoughts well and while it annoys Max, he's still on a mission to change her thoughts about this. To make her see how good she has it with him.
He's breaking her down and making progress. It's not going to be long before she's lost her fight and succumb to his advances. Then they can be really genuinely happy.
-
Y/n sits sitting with Max's cats who have taken to loving on her about as quick as Max has. She is sitting at the locked door of the balcony.
It's been a couple weeks now.
Summer break for Max is almost over and she's actually a little fearful to ask what will happen when it comes to him leaving for the races. Some of them he can't just leave her there.
"What are you thinking?" Max asks suddenly but she doesn't turn to face him, just keeping her gaze trained outside on the sunny outdoors.
"Are you leaving me when you go to races?"
"Planning your escape?" Max jokes making her finally turn.
"No." Y/n admits and actually she's really not, but she even seems nervous about admitting that. Teeth chewing on her bottom lip like chewing gum.
Max can't even help the twitch of a smirk on his lips as he moves over and crouches down, finger hooking under her chin as he looks at her, eyes invading her soul with his gaze.
"Do you want me to leave you?"
"No." Y/n swallows almost feeling hypnotised as he speaks.
She can feel her heart absolutely pounding in her chest as she tilts her head up more when he leans in and closes the space between them, his lips pressing to her own.
She doesn't realise it's a test, seeing what her reaction is. Disgust, fear, or compliance?
When she kisses him back, not flinching from it or even fighting it for maybe more than a slight hesitation before she moves her lips to match his own. Max breaks the kiss feeling there's certainly progress made but he's not stupid. He's also not taking a risk that y/n could easily use as a means of escape even with her willing to kiss him and denying the suggestion.
"You'll have to stay here for the next race. If you're good and don't cause any trouble. Maybe I'll think about bringing you to Monza." Max lies. He won't be, that's still too soon and he thinks that leaving her alone might be the finally nail in the coffin to her breaking point of completely accepting her fate.
He'll probably decide after Monza to see how he feels about taking her to Baku. Testing the waters with Singapore might be the best option.
"If you prove I can trust you to not be difficult while I'm gone. Then I'll consider you coming with me."
Y/n wants to argue that she's been good.
"You'll have the cats. They love you." Max smiles making her look down at the cats who are basking in the warmth of the sun through the window. Their silky coats glimmering under the rays shining down on them.
"I thought you loved me." Y/n mumbles then biting her lip.
That has got to be a new low. She sounded pathetically needy but there's something chilling about the thought of being left locked away by Max while he's away.
"I do love you. Why else would you be here if I didn't?" Max smiles hooking another finger under her chin and kissing her again which he is happy to feel her returning the gesture of. "I'll make sure there's plenty of food and you'll be completely fine. It will be a few days and you can watch me on the TV."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, of course." Max nods with a smile then sighing as he finally sits down. "I wouldn't watch you watching something else when you could be watching me."
Y/n nods obediently to his words then somewhat leaning over to him, resting against him as they sit in the sun.
-
Max had left for his home race, and he kept to his word making sure the fridge and cupboards were fully stocked with all the food she could think of wanting.
And she did watch Max in the race with the cats laid with her on the sofa. Despite her efforts to keep herself busy there was a longing whenever she saw Max on screen. She wants him there.
But she shouldn't want him there. Logic, common sense, rationality, it all tells her that she shouldn't want the man there.
Not that any of that changes the truth.
That y/n misses Max.
Being left on her own for days, locked away is going to sure be justification for feeling like this and she knows he's her only chance at not being alone anymore.
It doesn't help that he didn't tell her that when he'd be back. He didn't even tell her when he'd be back after the weekend. Not an idea of what day or time.
He actually returns while she's asleep, having left for the airport as soon as the debrief was done. Having his jet at the ready to leave for Nice within a couple hours of the race finish.
He returns to find her laid out on his bed, the tv on in the background as she sleeps. She's only in a t-shirt and her body is so exposed, having been away from her for days and not having ever actually had even the smallest taste of her. His self-control is wavering.
Taking off the thick of his layers of clothing, he leaves himself in his boxers and creeps up onto the bed, gently pushing up the t-shirt to expose her stomach.
Y/n's not wearing underwear, and positioning himself between her legs. Max can see her in all her glory and she looks needy and neglected. At least that's how Max sees it since he knows she's had no sexual attention from a man for weeks now.
A sudden thought of another man being the last to have fucked her makes his heart rate pick up and that cements what he's about to do.
As soon as he licks his tongue over her hole up to her clit, there's a gasp and her body jumps at the sudden pressure. He does even bother to check if she's woken up before he dives in, eating her out like a starved man.
Y/n wakes with a start at the feeling and a moan escaping her own lips before she pants desperately.
"M-Max?" Y/n chokes out, groggy and unsure of if this is really happening or not.
Not that Max replies with any words.
He wants to give her an orgasm but the overwhelming need to be inside her trumps the need to aim for multiple orgasms. He'll tackle that another time. For now she's slick enough that there shouldn't be so much issue in getting inside her.
"Max." Y/n mumbles as he moves up pushing his boxers down and teasing the tip at her pussy before pushing into her. Sliding smoothly into her while she groans at the feeling.
She's tight, and maybe understandably tense from still not being sure entirely what's happening.
"Fuck." Y/n whines as he pushes till he's fully seated in her heat. "Don't stop."
And Max doesn't need to be told twice for that. He withdraws from her before pushing back in setting a pace that is feeding some primal need that he's really never felt before.
His grip on y/n's waist tightens giving him complete control as he almost mercilessly pounds into her. Her moans and fists clutching at the sheets being enough for him to know she's taking pleasure from rough sex. Noted for future reference.
His pubic bone is knocking her clit just right and she's feel her body build up with tension and heat as she nears her own orgasm. One particularly nudge at her g-spot sends her over the edge and he continues thrusting into her through her twitching and tightening around him, impossibly tight before he finally spills into her. His heavy pants while she presses herself back on the bed.
Y/n swallows thickly before she just holds herself there. Her body sticky and she's looking at Max with hooded eyes as he slowly eases out of her, the cringe on her face giving away that the slight rougher treatment after going untouched for however long.
He'll just have to make sure she doesn't go too long again.
"Are you ok?" Max asks softly pulling his gaze up from seeing his cum leak out of her onto the sheets.
"Yeah....just a bit sore." Y/n nods biting her lip.
To say the least she looks disheveled and a little dazed.
"I would ask if you enjoyed that but I think I have all the proof I need." Max smiles then looking at her for a moment. "How was your time on your own?"
Y/n swallows, she assumed Max may have been watching her. She suspected he may have cameras. Whether they usually act as just securities cameras or not, they were certainly watching her. She just doesn't know where they are.
Of course she's right, Max was always able to check in on her when he had the chance.
"...Can I come with you for the next race?" Y/n mumbles making Max look at her with an expression which certainly feels like he's about to deny her. "Please. Please. I'll be good. I promise. I swear. I'll not even talk, you-you can pretend I'm mute."
Begging and promising to "be good" to the man who kidnapped her just so she can get be with him and not alone might be a new low.
"I'll think about it." Max states letting his gaze flick back down to her pussy. "Come on, let's get cleaned up."
-
Y/n didn't end up going to Monza.
Max decided that it would only benefit him more if she was so openly needy with him after being left for the Dutch GP. By the time he came back from Monza, y/n practically wouldn't leave his side and she was almost holding onto Max the whole time.
So finally he decided she'd be joining him for Singapore.
Her appearance is a surprise to everyone. Literally everyone. No one in Red Bull knew about a girl in his life, no one had a whiff of a rumour of a woman in his life. The team, the fans, the media and the rest of the paddock were all shocked when they saw Max appear with a timid looking y/n by his side.
"Max...who is this?" Daniel questions catching the champion as he stands in conversation with Lando and Oscar. "Where have you had her hidden away?"
Y/n unintentionally tightens her grip on Max's hand but it's not noticeable to the other drivers who seem in awe of seeing her with Max.
"This is y/n, she used to work for one of the sponsors." Max explains earning small intrigued nods. "You can talk y/n." He plays it off as a joke, chuckling which earns smiles from the other drivers.
"Sorry, hi. It's nice to meet you all. It's cool actually. Meeting you and not just watching you on a screen." Y/n states since Max said she doesn't actually have to pretend to be mute.
"Well it's always fun. Make the most of it." Lando smiles looking her up and down, which makes her smile a little awkwardly while Max frowns at him.
"We need to get moving. See you boys on track." Max grumbles looking very much annoyed at the fact he just watched Lando check y/n out.
The rest say their goodbyes before she is pulled along with him to the Red Bull unit. Y/n swallows as she follows him all the way to his driver's room.
Max has been torn about where he wants her to sit while he is out doing media or if he wants her as close as possible so he can keep as close an eye on her.
"What do you think? Can I trust you to come around with me, or should I keep you in here?" Max asks, obviously his question is rhetorical. Her answer won't influence his decision. So she doesn't bother. "If you can behave you can come around with me. We don't do a lot of media so it should be alright."
"Really?" Y/n smiles perking up a little. "I'd rather stay with you than be on my own anyway."
"Good." That's exactly what he wants her to say and he's trusting that she's not just saying it.
He's gotten better at reading her emotion, or maybe she's just gotten worse at hiding it as she's been broken down in her isolation and desperation for Max to let her out from his apartment.
She also just sort of, doesn't feel that urgent need to not be near him anymore. Pushing him away is a foreign though and concept by this point. In fact, things have shifted with Max's presence and how it effects her. She feels safe, his kisses make her feel intoxicated with a need for more of him.
Y/n moves closer, smiling as she looks up at Max. She has gained some confidence with him.
"So what do you do on Thursdays if you're not in the car?" Y/n asks making Max smile as his hands hold her waist.
"Media stuff, we do some stuff for fans on stage. Just talk, answer some questions. Nothing too exciting." Max states earning a nod. "So long as you keep behaving and don't say anything you shouldn't. This is going to go well for you."
He sounds sweet with his voice but the intention behind his voice speaks for itself. Things might be going well, but he's not going to fail to remind her that she is still on thin ice with trust. One wrong move, saying one thing wrong that might raise alarm with someone else is not a wise move. Even if it's accidental.
She's sure she'll be handcuffed to the bed and left there while he is busy as a means of making sure she can't possibly do anything else wrong out of his control.
Y/n just smiles lightly trying to hide her nerves, but Max sees the emotions behind her eyes and he'd be lying if he said he felt no satisfaction in still having the power. He never wants to lose the ability to make her fear him, purely as a means of making sure she never feels like she can leave him.
"Did I tell you how much I like this dress?" Max asks brushing a hand up her inner thigh after raising the hem.
She's only in a silky white slip dress which just about hits her mid-thigh in length and the back is exposed with just a tied string to give it some structure.
"I want you to stay away from the other drivers when I'm not with you." Max states as she feels his fingers pushing the thin and flimsy material of her thong out the way as he teases her as she looks up at him for a moment before dropping her head with a gasp as his finger plunges into her. "Do you understand?"
"Yes." Y/n whimpers before almost pouting when he pulls his fingers back from inside her.
He doesn't even say anything as he moves her to bend of the table in his room. Pressing her upper body down against the cool surface as she feels her dress flip up and he's thrust into her with no need for warning because just the teasing of his fingers and his touch was enough for her to feel more than ready for him.
"You need to stay quiet. Wouldn't want someone hearing you." Max states making her whimper and actually move her hand over her mouth.
This angle is letting him poke at her g-spot with scary precision and she's not even certain he's meaning to. Usually he'll somewhat rely on her clit, but honestly this time with this angle and maybe the thrill of being at his place of work. There's something just pushing her quickly to an orgasm.
Neither of them last long, her tummy tensing before her whole body tries to fight through the orgasm which almost feels like she's trying to push him out rather than suck him in. Not that he lets up, in fact he gets more brutal absolutely pounding into her, picking up her upper body while extending her spasming orgasm around him.
Her hand has fallen from her mouth which has dropped open a little and the beginnings of a loud moan makes his hand clap up and over her mouth, blocking the noise as he slams into her a couple more times then spills his cum into her, so much so that it leaks out around his dick held deep inside her.
He doesn't move them for a moment before he rubs her waist for a moment then returning her to lie her upper body down. Her lips let a small whimper pass at the feel of this angle pushing against her g-spot yet again. But he slowly pulls out taking a moment to appreciate the view before he scoops some of his cum leaking from her onto his fingers.
"Open your mouth, baby." Max instructs, knowing she'll do what she's told he reaches his hand around to her face and pokes his fingers between her lips. The obedience he's perfectly instilled into her meaning she sucks the warm cum from his fingers before he feels it cleans from his skin and pulls his hand back. "Don't move. I need to clean you up."
And she doesn't she lies there just waiting.
Max can definitely get used to this and he's certain there's been enough damage to her that he has got her exactly the way he wants her. She's been moulded into the exact girlfriend he wanted her to be from the moment he saw her and knew he'd make her his.
Was it the most morally righteous method of getting a girlfriend? No.
But did he get exactly what he wanted and will he change anything? Yes he did, and no he won't.
Y/n will be his and only his and she's never ever getting away from him. If she plays up, she'll be back in Monaco locked in that apartment for as long as he deems necessary.
But he has a feeling she's learned that her place is by his side or waiting for him so she can be by his side again.
Max cleans her up and smiles as she seems to try and readjust everything making sure her hair is tidy and her dress doesn't look creased or sitting wrong.
"You look beautiful."
"Thank you."
"Try to keep to yourself. I don't want you talking to drivers, but really I'd rather you didn't talk to anyone much. Avoid talking too much." Max states watching her smile waver as he sighs gently moving his hand down from cupping her face to holding her around her throat with some light pressure. "Just because I trust you to come with me and not cause trouble. Doesn't mean that you're free to do whatever you want. You get my permission to do anything. I don't want to see you talking to people."
"Ok." Y/n nods though only slightly thanks to his hand at her neck.
"I do this because I love you, y/n."
"I love you too, Max." Y/n smiles, because despite being scared of the man. Hearing those three words brings an annoying effective warmth throughout her body.
He uses the hold on her neck to pull her forward slightly kissing her heavily, his possessiveness communicated perfectly. And his warning will stay with her.
Max is the one in control. He's got the power between them and he'll use it if she doesn't live by his rules.
He literally kidnapped her and he's got away with it and now, she says she loves him without an ounce of doubt in her body even when he makes clear threats to her.
644 notes · View notes
letstrip-teamblue · 2 days
Text
Treat you like a lady
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• Your boyfriend doesn’t pay enough attention to you. Chris doesn’t like that.
• This is extremely cheesy!! That’s just how I am. Contains smut.
• Word count: 2,031
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Sunday
Today is a weekend like any other; you’re lounging on the triplets’ couch.
The tv is playing as background noise. Chris is on his laptop working on new Fresh Love designs while you lay next to him scrolling pinterest. You've known each other long enough that you can enjoy each other's company without forcing conversation. Simply being around him allows you to relax, and vice versa. You can’t find that with many people.
A sex scene causes the pair of you to look up. You exchange looks and chuckle like teenagers at it.
Chris breaks the awkward silence.
“Is it actually that good or is she playing it up?”
“Don’t know.” I shrug and go back to my phone.
I can see Chris’s brows furrow from my peripheral vision.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve never had a guy go down on me before.”
“What?”
You look up from your phone.
“…What.” You echo.
“No, what do you mean you’ve never had head before? You have a boyfriend. You’ve had a boyfriend for 3 months.”
Your cheeks get warm.
Think of a way to brush this off.
“It’s not a big deal. Not everyone’s into that.”
He seems stunned, gaze focused on his sneakers.
“... Do you do it for him?”
A sigh leaves your lips, “Chris-”
“No, listen to me. If he’s not reciprocating then the problem clearly isn't that he's uncomfortable. It's that he's selfish.”
Who does Chris think he is that he can judge your love life?
“This is none of your business.” You scoff.
“I think I should go.” You stand up and grab your bag.
Chris doesn’t give up yet.
“Okay, forget about that part for a second. When’s the last time he took you out? When's the last time he surprised you?”
You're struggling to swallow down a still-beating heart. You're avoiding eye contact with an angry version of one of your closest friends, and you’re trying to block out the possibility that what he's saying could be true.
“I’ll see you later, Chris.”
7:00 pm
Chris: I'm sorry. I overstepped earlier. just think you deserve better.
You read and reread the message. Typing out a reply and deleting it. Maybe what you need is space. You put your phone on do not disturb and crawl under the covers.
Trying to distance yourself from Chris would prove to be a waste of time because you end up having a dream about him.
“Hey gorgeous” a voice whispers in your ear.
It sounds familiar but there’s no one else with you in this room, so you can’t match the voice with a face. Whoever it’s coming from, their voice sounds like silk.
You're twisting your head around to try and find the source. Whoever’s in here with you finds that amusing because laughter follows.
“I'm over here, goof.”
It’s him. He walks over to you with a smile on his face and those big blue eyes.
“What are you doing here?” you asked
“I just missed you.” he says as he grabs your hand and twirls you around.
1:12 am
Well, that’s a first.
Monday
Chris opened the front door.
“Hey, I’m so glad you wanted to come over.” He said smiling.
Your face however wasn’t as cheerful.
“Yeah about that,”
You cleared your throat and walked inside.
“I think we should spend a little time apart. Like a refresh.”
His expression dropped instantly. You can’t keep eye contact. It’s too hard.
“What?”
“It’s not personal, it’s-”
“Did he put you up to this?”
“Chris , this is my relationship, stay out of it.” You say sternly.
“How can I when you’re all I think about?”
The air in the room gets thick.
“What?”
“I mean,” He scrunched his eyes and rubs his forehead. Flipping through the pages of his brain for the right words.
“I could treat you better than him.”
You laugh, “What are you talking about?”
He slowly brings his hand up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“You know it’s true.”
He takes a step toward me, his breath on my cheeks.
“I can make you feel good.”
You involuntarily gulped, which caused him to smirk. He tries to hide it.
Your mouth moves but no sound emits from it. You feel paralyzed.
He must be bluffing… right?
“Let me show you.” he whispered, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You don’t know exactly when he stepped closer but your noses are now touching.
I need to stop this.
“I have a boyfriend.” You say in a meek voice.
Chris very lightly put his right hand on your stomach. You can feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt.
“Does he make you nervous like I do?”
Chris' eyes fall to your lips.
“If you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word.”
Shit.
Soft, pink lips touch yours. You don’t kiss back but don’t run away either. Just wanting to take in the dimensions and texture of his lips. He starts to pull back.
Wait, don’t go anywhere.
You press your lips forward, chasing him.
It makes him smile into the kiss, which in turn makes you smile. The weird sensation causes you both to start laughing.
He straightens up.
“I wanna be with you too. Wo don’t know why I was ever with him in the first place.”
Chris can’t contain his smile. He covers his mouth.
“Sorry. I know I should be more… apologetic? I guess? But I’m not. I want you all to myself.”
“Yes, you've made that quite clear.”
You pull Chris back in for a kiss by his hoodie, it makes his insides stir. He places both his hands on the sides of your face, deepening the kiss.
You pull back for air.
“I should go tell him it’s over before things go any further.”
“Ok.”
But Chris goes right back to kissing you. Sliding his thumb across your cheek.
It’s so dreamy. You have to will yourself to stop.
“Ok I’m serious this time!” You chuckle. “Can I come back tonight?”
“I’d really like that.”
4:15 pm
Me: just left his house. whew.
Chris: im proud of u and so grateful.
6:00pm
“How long have you liked me?”
“Almost our entire friendship. I don’t think I realize it until you started dating Andrew.”
Laying on Chris’s chest is the happiest you’ve felt in months. You two have been talking about all the things that made you fall for each other. He’s been rubbing your back for the past 20 minutes but decides to put his hand under your shirt to enhance the feeling.
You sighed and relaxed even more on top of him, closing your eyes.
“Damn, you have some knots right here.”
“Ugh, yeah. That’s where I carry stress.”
“Here, lay on your stomach. I bet I can relieve it.”
Chris moves so you can lay flat. Once you’re comfortable he straddles your hips and brings his hand to the hem of your shirt.
“Is it ok if I bring this up?”
“Mhm.”
He lifts your shirt to where your bra starts ,then gets to work.
Maybe it’s the skin to skin contact, or the fact that your muscles were tense, but his hands feel heavenly. You can’t help but let out a string of sighs.
“That feeling good?”
“Yes, oh my god. Thank you so much.”
He chuckles. “Anything for my girl.”
After a few minutes of the same motions he decides to explore new territory.
He rubs his hands over your hips, your ribs, and now your thighs.
“Seems like there’s a lot of heat coming from your legs, baby.”
“You’re such a good massager it’s hardly my fault.” You tease back.
You try to close your legs together but he doesn’t like that. Keeping a hand right between them.
He brings his mouth right next to your ear. Lowering his voice.
“Do you need relief somewhere else, baby?”
While he talks he maneuvers his hand so it’s nearly flat against your clothed center.
You try to keep it together. You can’t already be at a loss for words.
You nod into his pillow.
“Turn over for me. Let me see that pretty face.”
Your cheeks heat up immediately as you position yourself on your back. The two of you make eye contact and any anxiety you had about intimacy with Chris is gone.
“We can stop whenever you want.” He says before kissing you.
“Let me show you how a real man behaves.”
He smirks and lowers himself to your stomach. Kissing your happy trail. Leaving tiny bites.
Since you’re wearing sweats he slides them off in seconds, taking your underwear with them. He tosses them over his shoulder and they hit some things in his dresser, causing them to fall. It makes you giggle but Chris is entranced by the sight before him.
“Jesus Christ.” He says to himself.
He runs his nose where your leg meets your hip. Kissing further and further. Creating a puddle before he even touches you. He licks your inner thighs. Painting them with purple marks.
Finally, his mouth is where you crave it. He’s apprehensive at first but once you let out your first moan it’s all over for him.
Chris sucks your clit and your mind goes blank. Nothing ever felt like this before.
“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”
When he goes back down he licks a stripe from the bottom of your pussy to your clit.
Your back arches off the bed.
“That’s it.” he says into my skin.
He’s lapping at your folds like it’s water and he’s been in a drought. Grabbing onto your thighs to make sure you don’t go anywhere. Not that you'd want to, but his actions do cause quite a bit of squirming.
“God, you’re everything.”
It almost seemed like he was saying it to himself. Like he couldn’t believe youre real.
“Next time you want something done right, come to me.”
“Fuck yes.” You moan.
When he lifts his face up again, your juices are dripping down to his neck. You’re so mesmerized by the sight you don’t register what he's saying. It just sounds like white noise.
Chris tsks.
“Looks like I fucked you dumb, huh? Poor thing.”
“Shut up.”
You push his face back down. He starts fucking you with his tongue.
“Yes ma’am.”
Jesus
Your thighs tighten around his neck, he squeezes them back as a response.
“You taste so sweet, baby. Like syrup.”
You can’t do anything more than whimper and grind into his face.
Chris grabbed the hand that was clenching the bedsheets and guided it to his hair. You happily thread your fingers through.
He touches you like you're all he asked god for. The sounds coming from you are his favorite song. This is the alchemy he does.
“Oh god,” your voice goes up an octave.
“Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”
“Please, so close.”
“Cmon, be a good girl and cum on my face.”
He made you a whimpering mess. Arousal dripping down your legs, down his lips, on the sheets. Chris continues to reach his tongue deep inside you while drawing figure eights on your clit.
In an instant your vision goes black.
The next minute was spent shaking and catching your breath. Goosebumps littered all over my body.
You don’t know when but at some point Chris must’ve turned you so you were laying on your side. He pulled a lightweight blanket over you and was now playing with your hair.
“Hey pretty girl.” He said softly as you opened your eyes.
“Hi”
“You did so well for me.” He kisses your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Don’t move.”
He quickly wet a washcloth and grabbed a water bottle.
You could drift off to sleep at any moment, but Chris made sure to clean you up first.
It felt nice to be taken care of for once. He made sure you were warm enough. every few minutes he laid kisses on your face. You were too tired to say anything but he could see how happy you were. That was enough for him
216 notes · View notes
janaispunk · 23 hours
Text
no one has to know what we do
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chapter 2 • series masterlist
pairing: Dave York x f!reader
summary: Try as you might, Dave and you can’t stay away from each other.
word count: 4.4k
tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that Dave pulls, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, sooooo many pussy slaps (don’t look at us), pet names, let me know if anything is missing!
a/n: co-written with my love @joelscurls, who unfortunately couldn’t write this entire chapter the way we had originally planned, so you’re stuck with me again. if you notice that some parts are better written than others, those are most likely hers haha <3 this is lowkey my favorite thing that i’ve ever put out, and i hope you like it as much as i do 🤍
follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)
dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍
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The phone feels like a paperweight in your hand. It’s late — you should be sleeping, but you know it’s useless to even attempt shutting your eyes. It’s too loud in your head right now — that promise of just one time blaring: a warning. Still, you can’t help but consider ignoring it, texting David and begging to see him again.
It’s probably a bit pathetic, yearning for a man who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you beyond a one night stand. Daydreaming about the timbre of his voice, the stretch of his cock. Getting his phone number from your father, who’s none the wiser. Your father, who is asleep in his own room just down the hall. Being home for the summer has never felt like such a burden.
Guilt eats at you as your fingers hover over the screen, David’s contact front and center. It would be so easy to send him a text right now, let him know you’re thinking about him. About the other night. But your conscience reins you in. Your father’s face flashes behind your eyes — rage and disappointment painting his features scarlet, and you drop the phone beside you on the mattress with a huff.
It’s difficult to even imagine the inevitable severity of his reaction if he ever found out. He’d probably cut you off, the revelation of you whoring around with his friend — and the possibility of this news getting out, tarnishing your family’s pure reputation — more than enough for him to disown you.
You hate him sometimes. Hate the life he’s forced onto you. You’re not even interested in studying law — not really. You never had a choice, though. It was determined before you even graduated high school that you’d follow in your dad’s footsteps. And as long as he’s funding your studies, your future, you have no right to complain. This is the life you should want. The life everyone wants. He reminds you of that fact regularly. Him, and his countless snooty club buddies.
But David — David is refreshing.
He doesn’t come from old money. He doesn’t pinch your cheeks and talk around you rather than to you, declarations of you must be so proud aimed at your father as you stand awkwardly to the side. You’re pretty sure he’s the first person outside of your professors to really look at you, take interest in anything you have to say in… god knows how long.
You can still feel his eyes boring into you. The subtle but tactful brush of his leg against yours under the table. The exhilaration that had thrummed in your veins. He’d made you feel something. You’d almost forgotten you could feel anything apart from stress and agitation. And as you lay in bed, mind swimming with arousal and impending remorse, you fear you may not be able to control yourself much longer, consequences be damned.
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He’s not expecting you to reach out.
Why would you? You’d mutually agreed on that night in his car being a one time thing — just a hookup; something he would’ve done before meeting Carol. Something he should probably be doing more often now. Except you’ve somehow sunk your teeth in him, injected him with a sort of venom.
Because all he can think about is seeing you again.
It’s wrong — beyond wrong. You’re so young; still in college, for christ sake. He never met you before the other night, but he’d been stationed overseas with your father when your mother was pregnant with you. He still remembers reading the letters she’d sent in care packages over his shoulder, the ones detailing her symptoms, what foods she was craving.
Strawberries. She always wanted strawberries. Maybe that’s why you’re so sweet.
He’s never been with a woman like you; never had someone trust him with so much vigor. Your needy little pleas, your vehement obedience, your desperation to take all of him in the driver’s seat of his car — you are nothing short of intoxicating.
Still, he tells himself you’re off limits. Trudges through the days that follow with the thought of you bouncing in his lap fogging his head. Struggles to focus at work and recovers in an increasingly poor manner when called on in meetings.
And then, late on a Friday night, you text him.
He only knows it’s you because you tell him so — your full name flashing across the screen followed by an apology for messaging him so late. You say you’re out with friends, and he’d probably have guessed anyway by the typos littering your sentences.
Seconds after the first, another text comes through:
[1:23am] csnt stop thinking about u. pls see me again i promise i won’t twll anyone
Fuck. Fuck.
His muscles tense; his cock twitches in his boxers. And before he does something stupid, like responds, he sets the phone face down on his bedside table. Stalks off to the bathroom with the intention of taking an icy-cold shower, detoxing himself best he can.
He hasn’t even closed the door yet when he hears it ring.
The rhythmic jingle drones through his studio apartment, and he all but leaps at the noise. Sure enough, it's you, calling him drunk in the middle of the night.
His head swims. He presses ‘answer’ anyway.
“David?” Your voice sounds so sugary-sweet, cloying with innocence. He can hear people in the background, maybe your friends, talking about getting another round of drinks.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks first. You tell him yes; say you're waiting on a rideshare.
He exhales. And even though hearing you is making him dizzy with a fucked up sort of desire, echoes of your pleasured sounds ringing in his ears, he manages to maintain composure when you say, “can I please come over?”
“Don't think that's the best idea,” he mutters. The lack of conviction in his words would likely be painfully obvious if you weren't intoxicated. But you are, and you whine through the receiver at his rejection.
Dave fights to ignore the increasing stiffness in his boxers.
“Please,” you beg. Fuck, he loves the way you sound when you beg. “I just got off the phone with my dad…he doesn't want me coming home so drunk; said he's working on a case and I’ll be a nuisance.”
His heart breaks for you. For the girl who just wants a father who loves her, who sees her as a person with feelings. Dave can't imagine ever treating his daughters this way. Would never dream of it.
“C-can I?” your voice sounds through the speaker again — softer, less sure. Like you've prepared yourself already for the blow of him rejecting you too.
“Can't– can’t you stay with one of your friends?”
You sigh, defeated. “I want to stay with you.”
It’s not that he doesn’t want to. God, it would be so easy to say yes. To go and pick you up from the bar himself, bring you back to his place. Help you sober up a bit and fuck you until you can't take it anymore. But he can’t; he shouldn't even be speaking to you right now. He needs to cut this off. Needs to make it clear to you that you can't reach out to him again.
“You– we can’t.” He’s stern, direct. It pains him. “The other night shouldn’t have happened.” True, though he doesn’t regret it. Not one bit.
You’re quiet on the other end of the line for a second too long. When you finally do speak again, your voice breaks.
“You don’t like me?”
He’s going to tell you that of course that’s not it, that he’s been thinking about you constantly, that he wishes he could get you out of his fucking head. But he doesn’t get the chance. Because your friends are laughing boisterously around you, then, sounds growing more and more muffled through the speaker, and you’re telling him rather unceremoniously that you have to go.
The call disconnects with a beep.
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You wake the following morning with a dizzying headache, daylight burning a hole between your eyes. With your friend still soundly asleep, you slip out of her room and then her apartment; find yourself home just as your father is getting ready to leave for work.
His travel mug sits on the entrance table as he pulls his shoes on, and you're immediately met with the smells of coffee and his leathery cologne.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” he mutters as he grabs his briefcase. You don't dare look him in the eyes, lest you be met with their disapproving stare.
“Hi,” you reply, small and non confrontational. When he doesn't answer, you continue past him, begin your ascent up the stairs toward your room.
“Not very appropriate for a young professional, going out and getting wasted. Your future employer could've been there. Could've seen you acting like an imbecile.”
Annoyance furls behind your temples; makes the pounding in your head grow tenfold.
“Well then they probably won't be my future employer,” you snip.
“Probably not.”
You hear the front door close behind you and, with an agitated sigh, drag your feet the rest of the way up the stairs. You fall onto the covers of your bed, well aware that you should probably shower, but your body feels too heavy, in no way ready to move again just yet.
When you pull out your phone, ready for some mindless scrolling to numb your thoughts for a while, you’re met with a notification that sends your heart racing.
Have fun last night?
From David, sent five minutes ago.
You hastily scroll up, reading your own texts from last night, full of typos and barely coherent. csnt stop thinking about u. Your head falls back with a groan. You had gone out to forget about him, not to drunkenly confess your feelings to him in the middle of the night.
Now that you’re thinking about it, you also vaguely recall speaking to him. You tap on your call log and sure enough, there’s his name, only minutes after you texted him. You have no idea what you might have said to him, only a blurry memory of being upset about something. Great, this is great.
Sighing deeply, you go back to messages.
i was very drunk. sorry for bothering you
His reply comes almost instantly.
Who said you bothered me?
You’ve only met him once, and yet you can picture his smirk as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.
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Dave is sipping his coffee, black, no sugar, and listens to Jim going over his plans for the both of them going golfing next weekend, humming occasionally.
It pains him, looking at the man in front of him, while your voice from last night is still ringing through his head. How hurt you sounded, looking for a place to stay, not being welcome in your own home.
When Jim stands up to leave for work, he remains seated, gesturing towards his half eaten bagel, but assuring the other man that he doesn’t have to wait for him.
You still haven’t left his thoughts. If anything, the longing he feels for you has gotten worse since you told him how much you want to see him again. And he’s so tired of denying himself the one thing he really wants.
He’s patient, chipping away at the bagel until he sees your father’s gray Dodge peel out of the parking lot. And then he gives it another 10 minutes, just to be safe.
Come join me for coffee? I’m downtown at Roasted Beans.
You respond moments later — such an obedient little thing, you are — letting him know you’ll be there shortly. He finishes off his drink, discards the cup along with the bagel wrapper, and orders two fresh coffees.
He sees you before you see him. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly, you look so cute as you scan the cafe. You’re wearing a sundress, the blue fabric dancing around your thighs with every turn of your body, and Dave finds himself entranced by you.
You smile when you finally catch sight of him, your entire face lighting up and he smiles back without a second thought.
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You shouldn’t meet him again. You really, really shouldn’t. But the conversation with your father this morning keeps replaying in your head, the disapproval weighing heavy on you, the feeling of being unable to do anything right.
You long for someone to look at you without judgment, for the sound of good girl against your skin. You long for David.
After last night and the fact that he obviously didn’t invite you over, you had thought that for him, maybe it really had been a just one time thing. Like you both had agreed on multiple times.
But then he’d texted you again, asking you to meet him. It’s almost embarrassing, how quickly you got ready, eager to see him again, despite knowing better.
On the drive over, you run through countless discussions in your head, trying to decide what you’re going to say to him. You have to be reasonable. There’s too much at stake. David is a mistake that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. You’re just going to meet him because he asked you to, because that’s the nice thing to do. It’ll just be coffee, nothing more.
Your resolve crumbles as soon as you see him. His eyes are already on you, their expression so full of want that it makes you ache. You walk over, feigning confidence as you slide onto the chair next to his, a quiet greeting on your lips. The deep, smooth sound of his voice when he returns it is enough to make you melt.
He has already ordered for you. It’s a small thing, rationally, but it’s once again more care, more attention than you’re used to. Warmth is spreading through your chest, but you try steeling yourself, forcing out the words that you’ve prepared to say.
“Listen, I want to apologize about last night. I shouldn’t have– I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m sorry for bothering–”
“Hey, sweetheart.” He interrupts your nervous stuttering, his hand gently wrapping around yours on the table. “I already told you that you didn’t bother me. If anything–” He sighs, his grip tightening. “I’m the one who’s sorry, you were looking for somewhere to stay, I shouldn’t have turned you down like that.”
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It breaks Dave’s heart, seeing how you’re making yourself smaller, how ready you seem for him to scold you. Your quiet You don’t like me? still echoes in his mind. How your own father didn’t care where his daughter spent the night, as long as she didn’t come home. Didn’t bother him.
He clocked the way your eyes widened in surprise at the coffee that he got you, how you huff a relieved breath when he assures you again that he’s not annoyed with you. You’re so sweet, so deserving of being loved and cared for, and he so desperately wants to be the person who does that for you.
He felt the same pull from that night towards you as soon as he laid eyes on you again, and it’s only gotten worse, now that you’re right next to him, now that he’s touching the soft surface of your hand. He vividly remembers how your skin felt under his fingertips, how you writhed against him.
The urge to get just a taste of that again becomes overwhelming. He holds your gaze as his fingers start gliding over your thighs under the table, inching towards the hem of your dress. Your lips part, the softest whimper escaping your throat at his touch.
He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t be touching you like this, shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Can’t stop thinking about you. I want to stay with you. How is he supposed to keep away, to stop himself, when you come to him so willingly, so desperate to be wanted?
“David?” Fuck, he loves that you call him that. “Will you take me home with you? Please?”
He can tell that you’re scared to ask, bracing yourself to be rejected again. He’s not nearly as strong as you think he is.
“Yes. Come on.”
He pulls you to your feet and out of the door before either of you have the chance to change your minds.
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He’s a bad man, shouldn’t be getting off on having total control over you like this. He’s probably sick; should see that shrink Carol recommended a couple months ago after the divorce was officially finalized. But the way you’re looking at him — with the same big-eyed, doleful stare you’d given him that first night — tells him you want this. Need this, even. You long to relinquish control to someone other than your hawkish father.
So pliant in his lap, limbs all gooey and relaxed under his touch, it’s clear that you trust him. Maybe more than he trusts himself.
You’re spread out on his couch, clothes hastily discarded as soon as the both of you stumbled over the threshold, already entangled in each other. He’s led you to the living room, the thought of fucking you in his bed, of your presence lingering there, your scent permeating his sheets, the last invisible line that he’s determined not to cross.
He has been toying with your body, collected your wrists in a hold over your head and told you to keep them there while he flicked and tugged on your nipples, sucked marks into your skin while you writhed underneath him.
He’s taking it slow, now that you’re here with him, now that he has the time to thoroughly break you down and put you back together again.
You’re already soaked when he sinks a finger into you, your tight walls clenching around him immediately. You coo up at him — a needy little noise that has his resolve disintegrating in seconds flat — and you look relieved when his hand loosely wraps around your throat.
“Please,” you whisper then, and he tuts.
“You want me to take care of you?”
You nod.
“Then you take what I give you. No begging. Do I make myself clear?”
Another noise — this one smaller, stuck in your throat — and he’s pulling his finger out of you again, lips curling into a cruel smile.
He doesn’t give you any time to prepare before the first slap lands on your already-throbbing clit. You can’t help but shriek. In response, he tightens the grip on your throat slightly. Gives three more stinging smacks in quick succession. Dave almost doesn’t notice when your eyes begin to roll back. He does notice, however, when your hips begin to roll upward, your body chasing his hand.
“Oh, such a good girl you are,” he praises.
Slap.
“You love this, don’t you?”
“Mhm,” you moan, garbled and a little breathless.
Slap.
“Pathetic little girl. Bet you could come just from this, you’re so desperate. Couldn’t you?”
You gasp.
Slap.
“Answer me,” Dave demands. “Or I’ll stop.”
It’s almost comical how quickly you sputter the word yes, eyes desperately pleading with him to keep going. And he’s almost shocked just how badly you needed this. In this moment, any guilt he’d been feeling is replaced with the desperate desire to give you exactly what you crave.
He slaps you again, a little harder this time, and you wail. Your legs are trembling, but you make no move to close them, keeping yourself spread wide open and accessible for him.
He’s throbbing, fighting the urge to sink his cock into your tight heat, but he wants, needs to know how far he can push you. How far you’ll go for him.
You’re dripping onto his cushions and he collects some of your slick with his fingers, rubs them against your clit. Your skin is burning under his fingertips. He teases the oversensitive nub with gentle touches, relishes in the way your eyes are glued to his face, the way your lips are trembling as you’re silently pleading with him.
No words are escaping you, and you’re so good, making him so proud with how you’re following his commands.
He slaps your clit again, and again, and again, until you’re a babbling mess, your throat constricting against his grip and your back arching as you come with a cry. Wetness floods out of you and you’re shuddering in his hold, broken whimpers of his name falling from your lips.
He watches with sick fascination, almost unable to believe that he drove you to this point. How much you enjoy being treated like this. That you’re just as twisted as he is.
When you come down, your arms weakly reach for him and he scoops you up, pulls you into his lap until your face is nuzzled into his neck.
“Good girl,” he coos, gently stroking your hair, “you did so good.”
He gives you a few moments to rest, tracing shapes across your back, until his fingers dip deeper, gliding over your ass and between your spread legs, where you’re still so fucking wet.
You squirm under his touch, needy little sounds traveling up to his ears once more. “Please,” you whisper.
One hand grabs into your hair, pulling your head back until he can see your face. You look wrecked. Pupils blown wide, your eyes wet with tears, but what really gets him is the way you look at him. He had worried, for a second, that he might have been too rough, but there’s only pure trust and longing in your eyes.
“I thought I told you no begging.”
You bite your lip, furrow your brow in that adorable way of yours. “I’m sorry. It just– it all feels so good.”
He presses his thumb down on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.
“I know it does, sweetheart. You need more?”
You nod quietly, your eyes wide and pleading.
“Alright then.” He turns you over so quickly that you gasp, scrambling for a second to get your bearings. You’re on all fours, your legs still spread, your ass on display for him.
He had wanted to prepare you a little more, to give you several of his fingers first before he stretches you out on his cock, but he can’t possibly hold back any longer. Judging from the loud moan that you let out, he thinks that you like the sting of him sinking into you unprepared.
It’s even better than he remembers, your slick walls engulfing him so tightly. He starts pounding into you, the depth of his thrusts jolting your body forward and forcing more sounds from you.
He wants you to still feel him tomorrow, wants you to remember him, wants to stake a claim that he knows he doesn’t have. He groans your name, his fingers digging into your hips, greedy for every part of you that he can reach.
Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect, giving yourself to him like this.
“Come on,” he growls, reaching down to find your clit again, rubbing in tight circles. “Give me another one.”
You cry out, pushing back against him. So fucking eager. He lands two quick slaps on your ass and you fall apart, trembling wildly as your walls pulse around him and you scream out his name.
He can’t hold himself back any more and follows you over the edge, pumping into you once more and holding your hips pressed against his.
You both collapse down onto his couch, a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs and quick breaths. You curl your body into his and he presses kisses against your cheeks, your temples, your lips.
Slowly, as he’s coming back to his senses, the guilt settles in.
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He lets go of you much too quickly, stands up and starts getting dressed quietly. You watch him for a moment, wracking your mind for something to say, before he looks at you.
“Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”
He sounds cold, distant. So different from the man who just took you to heights that you didn’t know existed until now. You suppress a shiver and get up hastily. Suddenly, being naked around him feels much too exposed, too vulnerable for your liking.
You pull your dress over your head and slide your shoes back on, but one crucial item is missing.
“Did– did you see my underwear?” you force yourself to ask. He shakes his head, not gracing you with a verbal answer.
Eventually, you give up the search and follow him down the stairs and into his car. The silence grows, until its weight is pressing down, almost suffocating you. You steal glances at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road, staring straight ahead, never wavering. A muscle in his jaw is ticking.
The mix of his spend and yours is pooling between your legs, but it makes you feel dirty now. You force down the lump that’s building in your throat.
When he stops in front of your house, you scramble out of the car without a word. You don’t know what would be worse, if he said goodbye like nothing was wrong or if he remained silent. You don’t want to find out.
It’s late in the evening, you’re lying on your bed, eyelids squeezed shut, willing sleep to finally overtake you. Thoughts keep spiraling through your head, so many questions that you have no answers to.
He asked you to meet up, for fuck’s sake. You don’t understand why he’s treating you like this, but you’re determined to not let it happen again. Just two times, you think with a bitter scoff.
Your phone vibrates on your bedside table, indicating a new message.
[11:55pm] I can’t stop thinking about you either.
Attached is a photo. A photo of a familiar lacy scrap of fabric, grasped in his hand and covered in milky white cum.
It’s filthy, and wrong, and you feel yourself getting obscenely wet at the thought of him touching himself with your missing panties clutched between his fingers.
Maybe just one more time.
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emeraldborealis · 1 day
Text
Over And Over Again
Pairing: Ex-husband John Price x GN!reader
TW//CW: Angst, flashbacks, yelling, fighting, brief mention of suicidal ideation, manipulation, gaslighting, blood, parental trauma, coerced drinking.
A/N: Hopefully this part will explain some questions about their past relationship.
Words: 5,147
You are currently reading Chapter 4
The Do-Over Series Masterlist - Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three
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Shutting the door behind John didn't feel real. Hearing his car pull out of the driveway again didn't feel real. 
Walking into your bedroom and into your bathroom to shower didn't feel real. The water didn't feel real.
Everything felt so distant. Like it wasn't really happening. There was a numbness that had washed over you, making nothing feel like anything. 
Sitting on your floor, still naked and wrapped in your towel you pulled out a box from under your bed, opening it you sifted through its contents, past letters and notes from friends and family, your birth certificate, social security card. All of it was here, but you were looking for something in particular. 
Pulling out your wedding ring you held it in your hand, feeling the cool metal against the palm of your hand. It was so cold it felt foreign to hold. It was once always warm, always against your skin. A feeling you knew better than almost any other. One you were once proud to have. 
All at once the memories came flooding back in. All at once something felt too real.
"Can you do more? Try harder? We all have to help around the house. You're an adult now. I need you to do more. And you need to go to work more, you have rent you need to pay, and insurance." Your mother's lecturing voice clawed into your eardrums. 
"I'm trying my best, I do help. I do more than you think I do. I'm working as much as I can." You felt like it was killing you, working so hard and receiving so little. It had always been this way. You were seen as nothing but lazy.
"I never see you do anything. And you could be going into work more, you should be getting forty hours. You're an adult." Your mother continued, shooting down your efforts.
"You don't see everything. I'm doing all the work they have for me. Why does it matter? I pay you, I put money away in savings. I'm doing alright. I've been working since I was fifteen." No matter how often you tried to explain that you were making it, she wouldn't listen.
"Well, you've needed to pay me since you were fifteen. So you needed a job. You want to be someone someday don't you? This is life, this is what we do. We work. This is how you become someone. So unless you marry someone, this is your life, living here until you can move out." You didn't have the energy to argue, she was right. She always was.
Turning the ring over in your hand you felt tears welling back into your eyes as another memory came to mind. You'd cried a lot tonight. Apparently you weren't done yet. 
Sitting utterly alone in your bedroom, you were about to be plagued by a parade of memories, forced to watch each one pass you one by one like fancily decorated floats. You did this too often, let your past walk all over you, throw things at you until you had too much to hold.
"I'm going for a walk." You informed your parents, stepping out the front door without protest.
Your feet took you to a familiar path, one you walked often. One you probably shouldn't walk on, you knew it was stupid and dangerous, especially the bridge. 
But the walk made you feel better. Especially when you'd walk with music blasting in your ears. Leaving the possibilities of something bad happening open. You knew that thought process was wrong. Which is why you didn't have your music today.
"You shouldn't walk on the tracks, you know. It's dangerous." A voice behind you startled you, making you trip and stumble on the railroad ties, you were able to recover without falling thankfully. You hadn't heard anyone around you. You needed to be better about zoning out.
"Yeah? I had no idea." Sarcasm dripped from your voice, turning around to face whoever it was that was talking to you. It was a man, a few years older than you. A smooth babyface, soft eyes, he was built an abnormal amount for a typical person his age. "Who are you anyways? Why do you care?"
"My name's John. I care because there's so few people in the world who look as nice as you, so it'd be a shame for you to be hit by a train."  His response made you roll your eyes.
"Oh, I get it. You're a creepy bum. Stop following me." You turned to keep walking, trying to leave him behind, but he followed you, jogging to catch up and walk beside you.
"You're delightful aren't you? And I'm not a bum."  He defended himself, not letting you continue alone. Maybe he could tell you were upset. Maybe he understood.
"Then what are you, John?" You asked a bit accusatorially, stopping to face him. 
"I'm in the S.A.S." Suddenly you heard a door opening, a way out. They moved around a lot, didn't they? Looking down you inspected his left hand, no ring.
"You seem a little young for being in the S.A.S." You were skeptical, untrusting. You needed to know he wasn't lying to you. He was no use to you if he really was just a weirdly strong creep.
"I joined the infantry at sixteen." He explained, a small smile coming to his face as he watched you take him in.
"I don't know what that means, but I'm assuming it's an explanation." John was going to become someone, John was going places. You wanted to catch a ride, you wanted out. 
Your struggles were a completely different battle when you were young, time doesn't heal everything. But it can take you away from those things, make them hurt less. John made them hurt less.
For a time.
"Who's this? This your boyfriend? He's so sweet looking." Your mother smiled, moving in to hug John, embracing him like she knew him, despite this being the first time she met him. "I'm a hugger." 
John seemed a bit awkward and unsure of your mother, he'd heard you rant about her a few times, just small things. But from his own experience he knew what she was probably like. "You have a good kid, good head on their shoulders." 
"Don't I? I raised them well." You could feel a bubble of anger rise in you, she didn't raise you. You raised yourself.  
You'd carried so much anger and resentment for your mother when you were younger. A lot of it was well earned. But the ways you'd sometimes treat her in return still ate at you. She was trying to overcome how she was raised. Just as you were now.
It just wasn't fair that you had to become a stepping stool for her to find peace for herself. It wasn't fair that she got to believe she was the reason you turned out okay when she was one of the biggest things you had to overcome.
"So, do you like John?" Your mother asked you curiously, sitting on the end of your bed, interrupting you from reading your book.
"I don't know yet. I think I do." You shrugged, putting your book down. Talking about this stuff with your mother made you feel sick.
"You like him, I can tell. You know you could have told me you were dating someone." She nudged your leg, trying to play with you, but you could hear a hint of her lecturing tone slipping through.
"It slipped my mind I guess. Sorry." You apologized. You found it easier to apologize immediately rather than let things keep going, keep escalating. Even when you apologized sometimes she still preferred to keep digging in deeper.
"You know you can talk to me about anything. Anytime." She was trying to be sincere, she really was. It just felt wrong to you. It felt wrong to talk to your mom. It always ended in a lecture of some kind.
"Yeah, mom. I know."  You reassured her, really just wanting to get back to reading your book.
Looking up to your ceiling you tried to stop your tears, wiping at them furiously. You were shaking again, but that may have been because you were still just in a towel. You couldn't stop yourself from crying, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout as you ugly cried.
"So, when are you and John going to get married?" Your mother questioned as you walked through the front door after work.
"Mom, it's been six months. Two of which he was gone." You took a deep breath, putting your bag down and taking off your work shoes. "Why are you so concerned about me getting hitched?"
"I was married at nineteen. You could be too. Especially since John is a good man. I think you should marry him." Your mom smiled at you, explaining her reasoning. She wanted you to sit down and talk to her about it. But you brushed her off. 
"I don't know yet." You grabbed your bag and started walking off.
"I was talking to you!" Your mom called after you.
Why did you ever let your family get the idea of marriage in your head? Why was that the thing that was supposed to fix you? Maybe if you had decided for yourself that you wanted to be married you could have gotten to that point with John on your own.
You could have actually been ready to get married. You could have learned how the world was supposed to work. How relationships were supposed to work.
"John, I want out of this stupid town. I want out of my parents house." You sat in a tree with him, watching the sunset, there were stars coming out now. Things felt right in these moments with John.
"We could get married, we could move somewhere. I've been thinking I want to be closer to base. We could get married and go together. There's a lot of pros to marrying me." John suggested the idea to you, taking your left hand in his, playing with your ring finger.
"There are..." You held his hand tighter. "You're the first person I've felt this way towards. Maybe that's a sign."
You wailed, curling up on your cold hard floor. You felt pathetic, but you knew you needed to let yourself feel all of this.
To finally fully process and let go of everything that brought you and John together in the first place. Everything he was to you. Everything he did for you. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
"Welcome home, sweetheart." John opened the door to your new apartment for you, holding your hand softly, your wedding band rubbing against his rough skin. "Look around, I'll get our bags from the car." 
You walked around your new home, both your families had moved your stuff in while you were on your honeymoon. This was your first time seeing the place, it was nice. It was far away from your family. It was perfect.
"I know it's not much. One day I'll get us an actual house, I promise." John came inside, setting your bags down. You smiled at him, jumping on him in a bear hug.
"No, it's perfect." You reassured him, kissing his face repeatedly. You were the happiest you'd been in a long time. You were happy to be married to John. To be able to call him your husband. To be out of your old home. Things were looking up.
Remembering the good years tore you apart. The few good years when you were just happy to be with John. When things were working out, when the compromise was listening to him and you were happy to do so.
They were all supposed to be good years. It was all supposed to be good. You were supposed to live out the rest of your life happily with John. But all good seasons have to come to an end.
The memory of the first time you broke down and called your mom still stung. When you had a moment of weakness and just needed your mom. You needed your mom like how you saw others need your mom all of growing up. How could she turn you away when she didn't turn them away?
"Mom, I'm not really happy. We fight a lot." You spoke into the landline, wiping at your tears. Feeling guilty for needing to talk to her. Feeling guilty you needed to talk to someone about your marriage.
"You love him don't you?" Your mom asked curiously, sounding mildly concerned. 
"Yes." Your voice trembled as you spoke. You just needed your mom. You needed to talk to your mom. 
"Then there you go, all marriages have troubles. But since you love him I'm sure you can work it out. Me and your dad fight but we love each other so we make it work. Anyways, I have to go. I'll talk to you later. Okay?" She brushed off your need to talk to her. Your desperation to just be consoled by her.
"Okay. Love you." You hiccupped. Knowing now you shouldn't have bothered. She only cared to listen to your problems if they helped prove her point. This did nothing for her, listening to you now was like listening to a gnat. Inconsequential to her.
"Love you." She hung up on you, leaving the receiver beeping in your ear. Leaving you in shambles alone. Leaving you once again believing you were the problem.
You probably were. You just needed to try harder, work harder to fix things. You loved him. So that was enough for things to work out.
Your screams didn't even make a sound, they were just a rushing of air and a tightness in your throat as you sat up from the floor, sitting with your back against your bed, clutching your ring against your chest.
"I don't want another, I'm okay." You refused another drink, a polite smile on your face.
"Oh come on, you've only had one. I didn't think your wife was a killjoy, John, with the way you talk so highly of them. I thought we could all have some fun." One of John's friends complained, trying to push another drink over to you.
"Come on love, it's okay. You can handle another drink, right? Nothing bad will happen to you as long as I'm here. Just drink a little more, if you can't finish it I will." John tried to reassure you, wrapping his arm around you and squeezing your shoulder, bringing you in closer to him. Away from his buddy.
"Okay." You caved, accepting another glass of alcohol. "But I'm not drinking all of it."
John's friend kept drinking, and then he kept drinking. He was totally pissed, babbling on and on about things you couldn't even understand. He was making you uncomfortable, but John reassured you he was harmless.
"Your wife sure is something John. I see why you married them." John's friend drunkenly giggled, reaching his hand out towards you, John pushed away his hand. Bringing you closer to himself. John's eyes were dark and dangerous, something you'd never really seen with him.
"I think you've had enough to drink. Let's get you home." John stood up from the booth, helping his friend up, putting his friend's arm around his shoulder to help him walk straight. "Come on, love. We'll take him home then we can go home too." 
"Oh, okay." You followed close to John, you were buzzed, but you were alright.
"You're such a good man John, being willing to share such a nice thing." John's friend stumbled away from John, wrapping his arm around you. His breath reeked of the alcohol he was drinking, his arm around you was heavy. Felt wrong. 
"What?" Your sudden panic of betrayal was short lived. One moment John's buddy was all over you, then the next John was on him, several feet away from you on the ground.
One hit, then two. John just kept hitting him. Over and over again. His knuckles were bloody, each time he pulled back his arm to hit him again you saw them, it wasn't his own blood. "Don't you ever touch them. Don't you ever touch my wife."
"John. John, that's enough. John, he's had enough." You grabbed John's shoulder, trying to calm him down. It was as if he hadn't even heard you, he just kept hitting his friend. "John, John. John! JOHN! Stop!" 
The sound of your screaming made him stop, stumbling up off of his now unconscious friend. You were surprised the damage wasn't worse, he was holding his punches and he was still a bloody mess. 
"It's alright, I've got you." He wrapped his arms around you, soothing you with his bloody hands, whispering sweetly into your ear, his nose pressed to your temple. The blood on his hands ruining your shirt.
Biting your lip you tried to stop it's quivering. You didn't want to remember that. You didn't want to have to think about that day anymore. It was one of the biggest turning points in your marriage. It was the day things started to get really bad.
"I'm trying to fix things okay?" John yelled at you, running his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry if what I did was shocking to you. I was just trying to get him away from you. I was angry, unbelievably angry."
"John, you're always angry." You cried, trembling as you stood before him. Sobbing like the mess you were.
"Well, who's fault is that?" His tone was biting, tearing into you. "Stop looking at me like that, stop looking at me with that scared face! I have never laid a hand on you. I would never lay a hand on you. So stop acting like a victim." 
You could hardly breathe, climbing from the floor you sat on the edge of your bed, adjusting your towel that had started to slip away from your body. Bringing it around you tighter.
"Mom, things have gotten worse between us. We're both tense since the incident." You called your mom, trying to cry to her again.
"That's normal. Fights are scary to see, but he was protecting you. Defending your honor. You're not worried he'd hit you right?" You could hear her washing the dishes on the other side of the line. Your concerns weren't even worth her full attention. You weren't worth her attention.
"I don't know." You ran your hand through your hair, trying to soothe yourself.
"You love him right?" She seemed to be listening a little better now, if only to hear the answer to her question.
"Yes." You sniffled, wiping the snot from your nose on the sleeve of your sweater.
"Then things will work out. This will pass. Just try to work harder on your relationship." Work harder. Work harder. All you needed to do was work harder. Push farther. Be better. Do better.
Standing from your bed you weighed your ring in your hand, screaming, you threw it as hard as you could. It hit your wall, falling down behind your dresser, as you heard it hit the floor you sunk down to your knees sobbing.
"You know how I said I'd get us a house someday? Well, since I'm being moved to another base we need somewhere closer to live. And I found the perfect place, it's everything you've ever told me you wanted. And, I think a change of scenery could be good for us." John announced to you, a smile on his face.
"It's an actual house? Like, our actual house? We're not renting anymore?" You asked, excitement coursing through you. Jumping up you jumped on him, making him chuckle as he caught you.
"Yes, and it's perfect for us. Has lots of character, just needs a little work." He spun you around. This could be a fresh start, somewhere away from everything you knew, a place to make new memories and experiences.
Your fingers traced over a scratch in the hardwood, you couldn't remember how it got there, maybe it was there before you moved in. Something about it felt familiar.
This home was supposed to fix things, as you fixed it, it was supposed to in turn fix you, your relationship. But relationships can't be fixed with recaulking and repainting. You learned that from trying. 
"By work I didn't think you meant demolition and rebuilding." You joked, stepping out of the car, seeing the house for the first time. 
"It's what I could do, love. And, it's not that bad. Just needs some new paint. We can do it together." John playfully nudged you, pushing you softly. 
"Together." You agreed, laying your head against his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his waist. The moving truck would be there soon with your things, but right now you could just take in the sight of your new home with your husband.
You covered your face in your hands, you wanted to hide. Hide from remembering. The snot running from your nose was beginning to suffocate you, you couldn't breathe through your nose anymore. 
You were still trying to cry out, still trying to wail and scream. But you had no voice left, you'd barely get a squeak out. There was just too much hurt.
"Mom, things are actually getting better. I think this project together is what we needed. We've gotten most of the outside done, but the inside is still unpainted, it has some old wallpaper, I think John's plan is to peel it. It's nice wallpaper but it's peeling already in a few places." You tried to catch your mom up, actually happy to share good news with her.
"That's great. I have to go, but keep up the hard work." She was never going to listen to you. Not when she had other things to do. Not when you were not the most important thing.
"Oh, okay. Bye." You let her hang up, off to do who knows what.
You often mourned the relationship you could have had with your mother, if you were only more like her. Thought, talked, acted, more like her.
If you would have just let her keep controlling and dictating your life. If you'd never left her maybe she would have loved you as a mother should. 
If you reminded her less of your father. Maybe she could have liked you more.
Maybe if it wasn't for her own father, she could have been a better mother.
"Good work, another wall done." You admired your hard work on the outside of the house, putting your hand on John's shoulder mischievously.
"You just got paint on me didn't you?" He looked at your hand on his shoulder before he looked at your face. A knowing look on his face.
"Yep." You laughed, lifting your hand to show him your  palm covered in paint, and the spot on his shirt that now had your handprint. 
"You little-" You booked it, running away and laughing. 
"It's just paint! No need for retaliation!" You watched as John dipped his hands into the paint, chasing after you, you screamed as you ran away. "Stay away from me!"
"Why? It's just paint." He continued after you, much too quick for comfort. "Come on, I just want to embrace my loving wife, you don't want your husband to embrace you?" 
"No!" You laughed, slowing down. You did not have his endurance, you felt like your limbs were going to fall off before playing this prank. Now you were sure you'd die with the stitch that was in your side.
"You already have paint on you, what's a little more?" John caught you, wrapping his arms around you, he put his hands on your abdomen, getting paint on your shirt, marking you with his handprints. 
You continued to laugh. "Okay, okay. Now we're even." You turned around in his grasp to face him, kissing him tenderly.
"Not yet." He cupped your face, leaving a handprint on your cheek. "Now we're even."
You cupped your cheek, feeling where he'd left the handprint. It was long gone. But a piece of you could still feel it. There was so much good mixed in with the bad.
Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you put in a good fight and still lose. Sometimes holding on too tight is the worst thing you can do. Sometimes the best thing you can do for yourself and someone else is let go. 
Acceptance is a small, quiet room. Filled with so much thought and pain you'd think it was filled with angry bees.
"Now that we've finished the outside, are we going to paint the inside together too?" You asked curiously, sitting down with John on your couch, draping your legs over him. He seemed a bit tense, but you were sure you could help him relax. Unwind.
"Actually, I got a call. I have to go, I'm wanted at base. But, you start and I'll help you finish. Pick whatever colors you want." He kissed your forehead, patting your thighs before moving your legs off of him so he could go get his stuff ready to leave.
"Oh. Okay." You watched him leave you. Knowing you'd end up peeling all the wallpaper by yourself. Painting the entire inside of the house yourself. 
Even when you didn't appreciate each other anymore he still felt like your other half. Sometimes he still feels like your other half. The half that's missing. The half you'd sent away so many times. The half you'd watched walk out on you. The half that you weren't sure would come back to make you whole. 
Things began to get worse again, you were either fighting or ignoring the other. You'd have moments where things were good. But you both were distant. You didn't even notice you were crumbling until you fell apart. 
So many years together, so much time and energy spent trying to make things work. 
You just couldn't try anymore. 
"John." You didn't know what to say, how to speak. All words stuck in your throat. 
"Yeah?" He looked up at you from where he sat at the table, a questioning look. You handed him some papers. "What's this?" He took the papers from you, looking them over. Divorce papers. "Oh, I see."
Your mind made you mostly forget what happened that night, but you know you fought, you know he yelled at you, said a lot of hurtful things. You could still remember that pain. But you couldn't remember what exactly it was that hurt so bad. 
His yelling went on for so long, so many hours. Then there was the slamming of the door, and he was gone. Truthfully you were still trying to process leaving him, sending him away.
The divorce went fast, he gave you the house, and most other things. All he took was all he needed. Everything else was left to you.
"Mom, I'm divorcing John." You sobbed at your own realization, having now said it out loud for the first time. This wasn't right. But this was what needed to be done. Your marriage was a sinking ship and you refused to let either of you drown anymore.
"Oh. I knew he was no good, I knew he was a bad man. I tried to tell you to be careful marrying young. Told you that you could stay home as long as you needed, there was no rush. This is what happens when you rush relationships and just jump into marriage." Your mothers unempathetic words struck you. The manipulation, the lies. The gaslighting.
"Mom, you-" You tried to argue, tried to call her out.
"So, are you going to move closer to home? You should." Your mother continued, ignoring you completely.
"No, John left me the house. Said I put in more work on it, so I could have it." You were honestly shocked how much John just gave to you freely in the divorce. How defeated he seemed. He just wanted to get it over with quick and easy. He didn't want to take anything more away from you.
"You really want to stay there in that house?" Your mothers tone was skeptical, unbelieving.
"I do, Mom. I have to go. We can talk later." You refused to let her drag you back home, you were never going to live with her again.
"Oh, okay. Love you." You should have known better, your mom was always like this. Always placing the blame onto you. You didn't know when it was going to stop surprising you.
The aching in your chest wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, you knew it well. At one point you were sure you'd die from it. But you hadn't, you'd just kept living. 
Day by day you'd just kept living. You were still living. You'd come so far, too far to be letting these things still hurt you the way they did.
You stood at the window, watching John put his last box into the moving truck, pulling the door down and securing it. 
It was the truck that was going to take him away. It hurt, watching him. This was really it, you were watching him actually leaving your life. He was going to be gone for good now. 
It felt cruel, being left here without him. Even if you were the one who decided he needed to leave. A life without John in it just didn't sound right. Though you supposed it was time to figure out how to live a life alone.
"No." You'd felt relief then, watching him leave. But you didn't now. You'd changed. He'd changed. You didn't want to miss out on meeting the new him. You didn't want to let your past self stop you from moving on from that hurt. 
You weren't going to lose something you couldn't replace.
He really had changed. He didn't fight with you, even when you were screaming in his face. He expressed the desire not to control anymore, he was truthful even when it was damaging to him. He wasn't just trying to change like he once said. He had changed. 
Desperately you moved to your dresser, pushing and shoving at it, it wouldn't budge. It was far too heavy.
Tearing your clothes from the drawers you threw them on the floor, ruining how neatly folded they were. Once it was empty you pushed again, getting it away from the wall, using your legs you moved it enough to get behind it. Grabbing your wedding ring you held it in your hands.
You didn't want to let go of someone who put in the effort to change. Someone who's trying to change for you. If you don't allow him grace, if you don't allow him to change, all it does is prove that you too, are incapable of changing. 
You had too much love for him, where was that love supposed to go? Even if it was a complicated love, it was still love. Love worth trying again for. Love worth trying again for with equal effort on both sides. 
After so many years your love still remained, you were still stuck with all that love. So why not try? Why not let the love try to find a home in someone one more time?
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little-diable · 9 hours
Text
There's just something about you – Professor!Austin Butler (smut)
Well well well, ofc I {as somebody who has a massive prof!crush} had to give in and write this. I think this has potential for a part 2, so please tell me how you feel about that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader works as Professor Butler's teaching assistant. The two are about to take a trip with his class when she gets sick. While staying with him for the weekend the two finally give in to the pull keeping them chained together.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), professor x TA relationship, quite fluffy
Pairing: prof!Austin Butler x fem!TA!reader (3k words)
picture credit to the original owner
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“Alright, listen up!“ Professor Butler’s voice echoed through the room. His words were followed by instant silence, forcing all eyes towards the handsome professor. She stood close to him, not enough to feel his body heat clashing against her, though just enough to hyperfocus on the scent of his expensive cologne – a scent she’d always pick up on, no matter where she was at.
“As you all know, we’re leaving for our trip next week. (Y/n) was kind enough to take over the bookings, but we need you to find one or two people to share a room with. Please send (y/n) an email til Monday, so we can avoid any confusion when we check in. If you have any further questions about the trip or concerns, feel free to reach out to one of us.”
She had joined the faculty as Professor Butler’s PhD candidate and teaching assistant a while ago, slowly having to adjust to being around a man like him. At first, (y/n) had struggled to focus, fighting against the urge to stare at him at any given chance, but slowly she had gotten more and more relaxed around him, actually getting to enjoy her interactions with the young professor. 
“Please don’t forget your homework, alright? I’ll see you all next week.” The room was filled with loud noises as he ended the class, forcing the students to their feet and out into the hallway. (Y/n) busied herself with his notes, rechecking them before she allowed her gaze to find his bright eyes. “You did good today, (y/n), if you feel comfortable enough you can gladly do next week’s class on your own.” 
“I don’t think I feel ready to do this without you yet.” His big hand found her shoulder, leaving her torn between focusing on the feeling of his thumb softly stroking the fabric of her blouse, and the intense eye contact he now held with her. For a second, neither of them spoke, leaving (y/n) to wonder what he was thinking about. 
“Alright, but you’re by far better than me at catching their attention, I hope one day you’ll realise that.” Professor Butler’s raspy chuckle had an addicting effect to it, leaving her to avert her gaze as he took a step away from her. “Chinese takeout while we grade the essays?” 
……
She woke with a pained whine as her hand reached for her phone, trying to read the time. It was Saturday morning, two days before they’d go on their short trip, but her body was clearly fighting against all plans, making her suffer from a sore throat and a blocked nose. Curses wanted to claw through her, cursing fate for pushing her into her misery. 
(Y/n) had been looking forward to the trip for a while, excited about spending some more time with Professor Butler outside of his office and the room he was teaching in. Secretly she had hoped for some more calmer moments where they could go back to sharing information about one another that had nothing to do with their research or their university work. Hopes that were now evaporating into nothing but cold air. 
For a moment, (y/n) pondered over her choices, but her fingers had already started to move before her mind could protest, opening the email app. With a few quick words she sent her professor a small warning, telling him that she was sick and would most likely not be able to join on Monday. She felt pathetic for the wave of hurt and exhaustion flushing through her, leaving her trembling body to search the warmth of her bed. 
It didn’t take long for her phone to go off, forcing her glassy eyes to read his reply. Simple words told her to give him a call with his added number to the email. Perhaps it was the fault of her cold, perhaps it was the fault of her hazy thoughts, whatever it was, it stopped (y/n) from overthinking, clicking on the number before her anxiety could get the best of her. 
“Morning, (y/n).” His raspy voice shot shudders down her spine, momentarily letting her eyes flutter close. She repeated the greeting while internally cringing at the raspy sound of her voice. “Oh sweetheart, you sound horrible.”
Heat rose to her face at the pet name, having to forcefully stop herself from gasping. She could only let go of a hum, not trusting herself to speak coherent words he could easily pick up on. 
“Are you still living alone?” A while ago (y/n) had told him about her struggles to find a roommate, unsure who to pick as she had high priorities she didn’t want to let go of. Once again she hummed, wondering where he was taking this conversation. “Alright, I want you to pack a bag. I’ll pick you up in a few, you’re spending the weekend with me, I can’t go on that trip without you. We’ll get you back to your healthy self in no time.”
“Professor,” she sat up as she tried to protest, having to drown out the sinful thoughts instantly flushing through her mind. “I don’t want to take up any of your space, and you could also get sick. I’ll be alright here, don’t worry.”
“No, you’re staying with me. I won’t accept any protests, (y/n). What’s your address?”
It hadn’t taken long for them to end the call, for her to take a quick shower and to pack a bag. Her heart kept racing in her chest, urging her to move, to be smart about the things she packed. She barely got any time to overthink as he had arrived at her place rather quickly, but now as she was sitting on his couch, wrapped in a blanket, (y/n)’s thoughts finally caught up with her. 
Austin – as he had asked her to call him – was all too gentle with her, tending to her every need with worry tugging on his features. (Y/n) could only guess that she looked as horrible as she felt, tired eyes barely managing to stay open, and yet she didn’t want to miss a thing, cherishing the chance to be so close to him. 
“How about we watch a movie before I make some soup, huh?” Austin plopped down next to her, tugging on her legs to place them in his lap. (Y/n) allowed herself to study him for a few seconds, his blonde hair had that slightly unruly touch to it, blue eyes focusing on his TV. He wore a simple white shirt that perfectly stuck to his muscles, paired with blue jeans that gave him a different touch to the version of him who always wore suits in class. 
“Sure, I’m good with whatever.” He shot her a quick smile that left her trembling, having to calm her racing heart with her grasp on the blanket growing stronger. She barely managed to pay the opening sequence of the movie any attention, getting lost in her thoughts as his thumb stroked the soft skin of her ankle, holding onto her as if he was scared she could slip right through his fingers. 
For the first time in years, she felt an unfamiliar kind of safety wrapping itself around her, clinging to her like a second skin made to protect her, to cherish her, to perhaps even love her. 
……
Quiet steps carried her towards the big kitchen, engulfed in darkness as (y/n) started the kettle, hoping that another cup of tea could finally lull her to sleep. She was too deep in thought to notice his approaching figure, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his naked chest. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” (Y/n) jumped at the sound of his raspy voice, pressing her hand to her chest as she turned towards him. A laugh clawed through Austin, guiding him closer to her with slow steps. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.” 
(Y/n) had to turn from him, trying to focus on the almost boiling water as he came to a halt behind her, reaching for another cup. His naked upper body was pressed against her back, one of his arms found its way around her waist to keep her close to him. Goosebumps covered her limbs, silently whispering to her, guiding her hand to find his. 
No words were spoken between the two as she poured the hot water into the big cups while Austin reached for the teabags. He loosened his hold on her as if he was begging her to turn around, to get lost in the bright eyes that reminded her of warm summer mornings spent at the beach, getting lost in daydreams that felt more real than memories of things she had lived through. Her body urged her to move, to lean against the counter with her eyes finding his features, wandering over his handsome face. 
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, (y/n)?” She didn’t trust her voice, knowing that she’d most likely make a fool of herself, but the two hands finding her waist, keeping her caged between his tall frame and the counter, encouraged her to part her lips. (Y/n)’s eyes focused on his neck, on the golden necklace he wore, dangling from his neck like a pendulum about to give her a glimpse into her future. 
“I,” a shaky exhale left (y/n), trusting her mind and heart to guide her. “I keep thinking about how comfortable I feel here. Thank you for letting me stay with you, Austin.” 
She expected him to shoot her his signature smile, to pull away from her to reach for his cup. But he kept close to her, hand slowly moving up to her face, cupping her cold cheek. He forced her to look up at him, making her breath hitch in her chest as she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her lips. 
“I tried to stay away from you, but you’re not making it easy for me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) got no chance to reply, silenced by the feeling of his lips finding hers. Ever since she had joined his team, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, wondering how his lips would feel pressed against hers, how he’d hold onto her as they got lost in their kiss. But this was so very different to all these daydreams, more intense, more exciting even. With his hands finding the back of her thighs, he helped her onto the counter, allowing himself to stand between her thighs as they kept kissing. 
“Now you’re definitely getting sick for sure,” (y/n) mumbled the words against his lips as they parted to catch their breaths. Austin’s raspy laugh echoed through the kitchen, bright eyes burning her skin as if she was caught in a wildfire, about to burn to the ground. 
“For you I’ll gladly take on the struggles of being sick.” His words left her heart roaring, lips finding his once again. Their tongues met in a teeth clashing kiss, wordlessly managing to communicate their longing, the desperate need they had fought against these past months. “I need you to be honest with me, do you want this? I don’t want to pressure you, sweetheart.”
“Take me to bed, professor.” (Y/n)’s smirk grew wider as his pupils dilated, picking her up without another warning. She had her legs wrapped around him, face buried in the crook of his neck. Within seconds they found themselves in Austin’s bedroom, he didn’t give her much time to take in the big room, the pictures gracing the walls, fully focused on him as he pressed her down on the mattress. 
Austin kissed his way down her throat as if he was following the trail of a treasure hunt, high on the adrenaline of the search. (Y/n) trembled beneath him while her fingers tugged on the hairs at the nape of his neck before moving down to his muscular shoulders. Somehow it felt as if they had done this numerous times before, knowing exactly how and where to touch one another. 
He parted from her to pull her shirt over her head, focus instantly drawn to her naked chest. The way Austin was staring at her made (y/n) feel as if he was marvelling at a masterpiece, a creation of old times the human mind barely managed to understand. Carefully he cupped her breasts, groaning at the feeling of her soft skin pressing against his. They held eye contact as he brought his lips back to her skin, sucking on both nipples before kissing his way down her stomach. 
“Austin,” (y/n) choked on his name, begging him to keep on moving, to touch her where she needed him the most. 
“Talk to me, sweetheart, what do you want?” His voice grew lower with every spoken syllable, pushing heat down to her core. She felt her walls clench around nothing, begging him to finally fuck her. 
“You, all of you. Please, I need you so badly.” Without speaking another word, he ripped her panties from her hips, letting his fingers explore her arousal-covered folds. His name rolled off her tongue, she arched her back at the careful touches, trying to shuffle even closer. Austin could do whatever he wanted to her at that very moment, she was putty in his hands, his to toy with, his to use for his own pleasure. Whatever he wanted, she’d do it, if he kept on touching her like this. 
“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” (Y/n) could only nod her head, letting go of a breathless gasp the second his rough tongue brushed through her folds. Austin moaned at her taste, he wrapped one arm around her thigh, keeping her pressed to him while the other hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with his fingers. Within the first seconds of him touching her, (y/n) had known that she wouldn’t be able to hold on for long, overstimulated by his touches. 
No longer could she spare her hurting throat any attention, no longer did she struggle to breathe on, all she could do was focus on him, on the way he dipped his tongue into her tightness, how he added more speed to his movements, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
“You taste so sweet, I could stay like that forever, if you’ll let me.” She moaned at his praise, fingernails scratching at his skin to try and hold on. Her legs were trembling from the strength she used to curl her toes, unsure how much longer she could stop herself from giving in to an intense orgasm. 
“It’s alright, cum for me, show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.” Austin’s words pushed her into the open arms of her orgasm, calling out his name as he kept circling her clit with a smirk glued to his lips. He watched her every move, every micro-expression he could pick up on, fully mesmerised by the beautiful woman he had wanted to pull closer for months. 
“Oh god,” (y/n) panted the words, drawing gleeful chuckles from Austin as he let go of her. Her glassy eyes watched him undress, gaze wandering down his muscular upper body, past his six-pack to his sweatpants. His cock sprang free as he stepped out of his clothes, a sight that pushed heat straight down to her cunt, needing to feel him buried inside of her. “I need you to fuck me now, I can’t wait any longer, Austin.”
“Mhm, such a desperate girl, we should teach you some patience one day.” He reached for a condom, rolled it down his cock and positioned himself between her thighs. With her hand finding the back of his neck, (y/n) pulled him back down for a kiss, distracting herself from the slight pain as he pushed into her, having to adjust to his size. For a second, they held still, clinging to one another to let go of a few deep exhales, fingers interlaced to try and keep themselves grounded. 
“Move, please, professor.” Austin let go of a growl at the use of the title, building a comfortable rhythm that allowed one another to get used to the sensation. He was careful with her, not daring to hurt her when she was still sick, not fully able to guide her body. But the blissful expression tugging on her features was enough to calm his racing heart, finding enjoyment in the way she clung to him, how she seemingly felt the same pull he did.
They were a mess of tangled limbs, of moans blurring together, of hearts beating in sync, a match so perfect neither of them wanted to break out of their very own bubble. Their bodies met with every thrust, bringing them closer and closer together, while their eyes found back together. 
“My pretty girl, I don’t want to let you go again.” He murmured the words against her lips, luring a soft chuckle out of (y/n). 
“Don’t let me go, don’t you dare.” Her head rolled back as his cock nudged her swollen spot, leaving him grinning in success. Austin kept staring down at her, trying to burn every passing second into his mind, praying that he won’t ever forget about this night. 
“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock, sweetheart.” With a gasp leaving her, her fingers found her pulsing clit, moving quickly to give her the needed push. He fucked her through her second orgasm, letting go himself as she relaxed beneath him. 
Austin clung to her as they both tried to catch their breaths, only parting as they managed to break through the hazy fog wrapping itself around the two lovers. He threw away the condom before he returned to her, cupping her now warm cheek to pull her in for another kiss. 
“How about a bath?” She could only nod as he picked her up and carried her into his bathroom, while making the silent promise to cherish her for as long as she’ll let him.
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yuri-is-online · 2 days
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Hi Yuri! Have you ever considered the idea of there being an alternate version of the twst boys in Yuu’s world? Since we have no clue if it’s just another planet or an entirely separate universe, it’s theoretically possible. Poor Yuu would think they are going crazy seeing a familiar face or hearing a familiar voice in another world. Perhaps it is even painful to the point Yuu tries to avoid interacting with the boy in question. - 🦐
(Also, I am well aware of how often I’ve been sharing these thoughts. If they’re annoying you or you don’t feel up to it, I don’t want you to feel pressured to respond or anything. I’m just spitballing and posting before I forget. 👉👈)
OH BOY DO I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ON THIS!!!!! (first and foremost being that you are very much not annoying <3)
An alt version of a twst boy in Yuu's world is just so yummy. There's so much angst potential depending on what the relationship is/was. Did their boy die in some horrible accident? Is he waiting for them, anxious and terrified about where Yuu went? Does this imply that twst also has a version of Yuu somewhere out there in the world? Questions questions. I did sort of write about this idea in the tags of this yan version of the soulbound au, wherein a cursed Yuu driven insane by their curse kills their soulmate before being isekaid to Twisted Wonderland and finding a different version of him, horrified with the realization that they could kill him again... but I want to cook up some dynamics for what the dorm leaders/overblot boys could be up to in Yuu's world first sooo...
I had a hard time thinking about Riddle until I remembered he's a horse girl and cast Yuu in the role of bad boy ranch hand whose dad's got a job at the barn so they're forced to help take care of the horses and warn all the would be YA protags about the "special horse" who doesn't take orders from just anyone. Not that Riddle is the protagonist... he's more the well established rich petty bitch who looks down on the new girls and especially on you because you're never taking care of his horse in accordance with all his stupid rules. And in stereotypical horse movie fashion Riddle has a massive not so secret crush on bad boy ranch hand Yuu who just doesn't get why he keeps trying to talk to them.
There isn't much royalty left in the world, but imagine Leona as the son of some rich business magnate whose older brother got the company and left him with "nothing." Maybe Yuu works at a liquor store part time and Leona comes in to pick stuff up every once in a while. You wouldn't call him a friend, but you guys shoot the shit enough that you have a general feel for each other to the point he joins you on your breaks to keep up the talk and play chess.
I love the idea of student president council Azul. He's made for that trope. Born for it, he'd be such a terror with Jade as his VP and Floyd as well. Floyd. I can't see him really being a part of the student council but I had this idea the other day based off this instagram post I saw about this mom who sews right? Her daughter was running for class president and she made these bracelets with little shrimp on them and attached them to cards that said "Keep it shrimple! Vote for (kid's name)!" And I was struck with this vision of Yuu doing that so like. Yuu running against Azul with that campaign slogan and he's tearing his hair out over it being so popular because people like memes (the original idea had Floyd running as Yuu's vp but they both dropped out at the last minute because neither him or Yuu wanted to do the actual work lol.) I also like student council president Azul and delinquent Yuu... but that's because of Tsuredure Children ha
Kalim and Jamil are hard... but I think the same set up of rich businessman's kid and his bodyguard in training still fits. How Yuu meets them is beyond me, but if you were friends with either of them could you imagine how painful seeing the same tragedy play out in this new world would be? Jamil doomed to always be a servant and Kalim doomed to be betrayed by his best friend... that would be so painful for someone who cared deeply about either of them I could see it motivating Yuu to try and resolve things for twst Jamil and Kalim that much harder.
Ok so hear me out... Vil still wants to be an actor in your world but he doesn't have the connections to his dad and is working as a pharm tech with Yuu at your local drugstore while going to school and hunting for gigs. He mentions being interested in cosmetics and magical pharmacology in game... and he also mentions knowing nothing about his mom so like. Your world Vil ended up with his mom instead of his dad and you get to see him on the cusp of his big break as one of his number one supporters from the very start, only to get isekaid to a world where you get to see what things could have looked like. It's strange how similar and yet not both versions of Vil are...
Idia is the guy who comes in to buy snacks at your convenience store during the night shift who you start talking to when you notice him buying a game time card for something you also play. You're stupid awkward around each other at first, but it's nice to finally have someone to talk about your niche interest with once you've passed each other's sniff tests. You don't actually know him know him though... so getting sent to another world where there's another version of him makes you worried the more you learn about his backstory that maybe you should have been there for your Idia more. Is he doing ok back home? Did he think of you as a friend? You hope he isn't blaming himself for any of this...
Malleus is an old money trust fund baby whose family was absolutely royalty at some point and is still overly attached to it. He likes old buildings, cemeteries, long walks in the fog, you know all those good goth things. He's tall and socially awkward and so grateful for you, his first and best friend who he met one moonlight night he swore was a dream in his favorite abandoned building who spoke at length with him about all sorts of things he liked. So you know. More or less the same. Just without the world ending powers... I think this is another one that would be quite sad. Which version of Malleus needs Yuu more? Which one is the real one? I'd hate the idea of him being destined to always be lonely and lose the ones he loves.
As for Yuu avoiding them... I could see that. It would feel weird seeing someone you love so much only for it not to be them at all. I know that the Lovebrush Chronicles kiiiiind of deals with this??? I wish I had the patience to play through it has an appealing glasses wearing ro but it's a mobile otome :/ but still. It's a concept I promise I am totally normal about.
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blublublujk · 2 days
Text
nobody knows (2)
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-> part 1
word count: 3k
genre: established relationship (hard dom x slutty sub)
pairing: hoseok x reader and jungkook x reader
summary:
a few minutes pass as you entertain yourself on some random game on your phone before he messages again. daddy: if you even think of actually going out with a friend i’ll chop their dick off.  me: who said it would be a man?  daddy: have fun then baby don't stay out too late! 
warnings: [please read if you are sensitive] hard dom hoseok!!, needy sub reader!!, hoseok is actually sweeter this time, cheating ig?, reader gets her period, explicit sexual content: idk how i forgot this last time but DADDY KINK, thumb sucking, blowjob, throat-fucking, pictures during sex, shy awkward virgin jungkook, sexting, cum on panties, suggestive language
a.n: i'd let this hoseok ruin my fucking life. this is so fun. can you tell he's my bias >.< tbh im making up all plot on spot i wanted to explore the actual relationship first before we see anything else of jk x reader. hoseok can be sweet... he needs to fuck the reader already!!! anyways thanks for being very patient with me. see you on the next one ^.^
—> m.list
—> find me on ao3 & twt
--
“baby.” hoseok’s lips are warm against your cheek, hot breath hitting the soft skin. “i’m off to work.”
your voice is groggy, hair a mess, but it doesn’t stop you from flinging out of bed in a pout. “already? you said we could do breakfast.”
“yeah, well plans changed. i really needa finish this song i’m working on. i’ll be back before dinner. no promises though.” hoseok doesn’t hesitate to say the words, he doesn’t look back as he fixes his collar and brushes fingers through his bed hair. an apology would be nice, but it never comes. 
this is the third time this week hoseok misses breakfast, much less makes it to dinner. somehow always managing to create more work for himself and keep busy while you rot away in the dormitory. it wasn’t fair to you, though you can’t really say you didn’t sign up for this. you knew exactly what this lifestyle came with, fame and money only meant hoseok would never truly be yours as you are his and you had to simply respect that. as sad and lonely as you can be at times. 
“but daddy—” 
“not now angel, you’ll be good for me right?” and just like that you succumb to his strong, firm demeanor. he digs his thumb into the fat of your cheeks, flicking your bottom lip. hoseok licks his own, watching your mouth take his thumb. immediately he feels your warm tongue, sucking him in like a vice, mouth so pliant and fuckable. 
he takes that as a ‘yes daddy’ the way you look up at him while you suck on his thumb like the sweet girl you are. eyes heavy and lustful. 
well, if he isn’t gonna do breakfast with you as he promised, you’ll get yours right now. two can play the same game, but only one wins in the end. something tells you that you fall victim to the game anyways, it was never yours to win. 
your hands find his waistband as you look up to him with hopeful eyes. he’ll probably be late if he plays this game, but it’s too much fun to resist. plus, which man on earth is known for rejecting a blowjob. certainly not this one. 
hoseok tugs his pants down, allowing you to pull down his boxers as his cock springs to life. he takes his thumb out of your mouth and caresses your cheek carelessly, smearing your own spit all over it. the things he would do for that face, so pretty and willing. and all fucking his.
you get to work and on your knees immediately. grabbing his cock in your hands, you lick and suck the tip while hoseok throws his head back, feeling you slurp him down. he fails to resist the temptation to fuck your throat so with no warning he holds a tight grip of your hair and forces your head down. mouth hot and tight around him, wetting his cock so nicely. 
eyes springing tears already, but alas he’s not gentle. he fucks your throat and you feel him grow larger in your mouth, drooling spit all over yourself. “fuck baby, you’re perfect.”
you moan airily, struggling to breathe as he thrusts harder, throat stretching for him and him only. just like you were made for it. 
he groans, feeling that warm wet grip swallowing around him. “just like that, such a slut for it. don’t think you deserve my cum.”
you shake your head profusely, sad-eyes looking up at him while sharp eyes mirror your own. his lips tug at the end and he’s smirking watching you desperately beg for it. 
he releases his grip, spit instantly drips from your mouth, covering yourself with your own juices. it’s a mess, but you both love it for different reasons. his dick stands tall and proud, swollen and wet around the tip. 
he starts to fuck his own fist, thanks to you, he doesn’t even got to spit on it anymore. his dick is wet plenty. he watches your lustful eyes crave for it, practically foaming at the mouth for it. though you are still gasping for air, you wish he would just fuck it out of you again. you want him so so so bad. 
your hands try to reach up at him, but he slaps them away, he isn’t rough and it doesn’t really hurt, but the warning is enough for you to drop them back down. your hands start to rub against your bare thighs, iching to release your own arousal. 
“baby’s horny?” it’s like he’s teasing you, almost laughing in your face, his cock is so close to your face you can still taste it. 
you instantly nod though with hopes that he’ll help you out. 
“yeah? you need daddy’s cock inside you?” hoseok taps his cock against your cheek, pre-cum smearing onto it. it’s cruel the way he toys with his food, but what can he do when you react so beautifully to it. you’re just too easy. 
“yes. plu-please.” you whine. 
“yes what.” he barks.
“yes d-daddy. i want it so bad.” 
you hear him hum pleased, as he continues to jack himself off, he’s getting close and you know it, because his eyes start to hood and he’s breathing heavier. all the more of a reason you wish he would just shove it in you, your pussy is dripping wet for it. if only he were to see himself, he would never stop fucking you!
“stand up.” he orders.
fucking finally.
with wobbly legs you stand and he rough pulls down your shorts. a hand still heavy on his cock, gripping the fuck out of it. 
“let me see inside those pretty panties.” 
hoseok wastes no time to nut his seed all over the inside of it, covering your bare cunt with his juices and dripping all over the fabric. you both look down as his cum decorates the inside of your panties so beautifully, both panting at the sight. “stay there.” 
the taller tugs his pants back up and grabs his phone. he pulls you in for a sudden quick kiss before he takes a picture of the mess he made. “such a perfect sub.” 
with another kiss, he puts his phone away and grabs your wrists, tugging your hands off your panties. your panties sit back so prettily and wet against your pussy now. they are sticky and it feels pretty gross against your skin, but you start to forget about it when you feel hoseok’s tongue down your throat. 
he finally pulls away with one final kiss, pulling your shorts back on. “go back to bed baby.”
“but ‘m not tired.” you mumble, still horny as ever. cunt begging for cock. anything. 
“don’t pout angel. it won’t get you anywhere. i’ll be back later. behave.” and with that, hoseok leaves to work (or so he says), leaving you wet and lonely. 
to no surprise, hoseok in fact does not make it to dinner. to your surprise, he’s kind enough to leave you a sweet text message instead though. 
daddy: [attached image] miss that perfect pussy. you’re so beautiful you know that?
me: you missed dinner
daddy: that’s no way to talk to me angel  i said no promises
me: yeah well, i’ll just have dinner with a friend instead ig
daddy: who? 
me: wouldn’t you love to know.
daddy: you know i’ll find out anyways?  like you could hide anything from me
me: you’re an ass
daddy: you are what you eat
you don’t bother to reply nor entertain his not so funny jokes, but your phone buzzes again to absolutely no surprise. however the following message makes your heart fall straight out of your ass. 
daddy: i’m sorry angel.  i promise to be home for dinner tomorrow. is that better? 
the pit of your stomach burns, really it’s the bare fucking minimum, but you can’t help the way it flips into butterflies. a smile forming on your face. 
me: yes daddy
daddy: good girl the very best
a few minutes pass as you entertain yourself on some random game on your phone before he messages again.
daddy: if you even think of actually going out with a friend i’ll chop their dick off. 
me: who said it would be a man? 
daddy: have fun then baby don't stay out too late! 
hoseok’s messages make you giggle so hard. sometimes you forget this is the person you are with, the one you share every little moment with, and the one that would absolutely kill you despite your entire past with him for thinking about someone else. someone younger, bit buffer, close to them. the person they’ve always known all their life. and here you are contemplating doing it all over again. it’s scary how thrilling it all feels. a pawn in your own game and you don’t even know it. 
luckily for you and unfortunately for hoseok, there’s no dinner and especially no friend, but there is jungkook. he’s home again, earlier than everyone, as expected. 
the younger follows the same routine he has as soon as he gets home. he immediately hops into a quick shower and doesn’t come out to eat till way later. busying himself with who knows what. 
jungkook is a bit awkward, more nervous, and careful around you since the whole movie situation, the one where your tits were out by the end of it while he was driving holes into them with his eyes. 
it makes you a bit frustrated. at this point, you're begging for attention and he hardly budges, but you also understand his fear. 
“that was good noona, thanks.” jungkook picks up his plate, rushing to wash it off and lock himself back in his room. 
you hardly ever make dinner like that, but you figured it would be a great way to pass time and an excuse to get off your ass and do something that doesn’t involve rotting away in bed, lonely and horny. and all very much alone. this way, you don’t have to be alone. this way, jungkook fills the empty spot and he doesn’t even know it. 
jungkook is quick in the kitchen and you hate it. you obviously weren’t gonna let this happen, not under these circumstances, and not in this way. not after everything. “jungkookie, can you do me a favor?” 
“s-sure.” his hands are wet from the sink as he places the plate down, eyes hesitant to look up. 
“it’s just, i just got my period and my stomach hurts. a lot.” a hand caresses your tummy lightly, putting pressure where it hurts. thankful that your period arrived after this eventful/uneventful morning. 
“oh… im sorry. can i help?” he asks to be nice, not denying you a damn thing. 
“can you massage it?” you plead without shame.
“me-e?” he stutters, pointing at himself, flushing pink.
“mhm, who else silly!” 
jungkook awkwardly laughs. “yeah okay. lay down noona, i’ll try to make things better.” 
with that your back goes on the couch while you look up at him with sweet eyes. “thank you jungkookie, it feels much better when someone else is doing it.” 
“yeah, of course.” he lamely replies. 
very carefully, you slide your shirt up, revealing much more skin than intended (not really though). the mounds of your breasts sit so pretty like this and it leaves nothing to his imagination. your underboob peaks through and jungkook holds back a sharp gasp.
he refocuses on his mission, hands shaking as he brings them closer. “m gonna touch you now noona.”
though it wasn’t his intention, his suggestive usage of wording nearly makes you moan. you bite your lip to prevent it. 
“please.” you whisper calmly, desperately. 
jungkook nods and cold hands touch your tummy. they are a bit stiff at first because he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but he starts getting a hang of it when he hears you lightly hum pleasantly. 
he explores your skin, with every noise you make filtering his ear he finds what you enjoy and don’t. he rubs feather-like circles against your soft skin, thumbing over curves and your plushy stomach. you feel so warm in his hands and that makes him feel so good, too good. and the fact that he’s never ever done this before. jungkook thinks it's possible he can cum in his pants, just by doing this alone! he’s really, really lame. 
“feels so good, jungkookie.”
“yeah…” he strains, hands heavier on your stomach, but they warm up feeling so nicely against your skin. 
“can you- lower, can you go lower?” 
his hands are barely above, around your belly button, avoiding anything further down, not sure if it is for his own sake or yours. he’s scared and it’s obvious by the lack of movement. 
jungkook avoids your eyes as his hands freeze, hands weighing down on where he was last massaging. “wan— want me lower?”
“yes.” surely he knows what you mean. “please.” 
“oh- okay.” the younger says nothing more. 
jungkook resumes his movements, his hands going much further down your stomach, just right above your waistband. he thumbs your underwear, trying very hard to hold his breath whenever his fingertips come in contact with the thin yellow fabric whilst still rubbing patterns into your lower belly. he’s hoping you don’t hear how heavy and much faster his breathing has gotten. he’s struggling for air, face beet red. not sure if it’s out of embarrassment or his own humiliation driving him nuts. 
he’s not sure what he’s doing anymore. or what has gotten into him. it’s like his dream is set right before his eyes and yet he knows he really shouldn’t be here and doing this. much less with someone like you, but for whatever reason he can’t stop. 
“f-feels better?” jungkook asks, light-airy voice. 
“much, much better.” you reply truthfully, your stomach buzzing warmly. your eyes take in every movement on his face. from his eyes to his nose, to the way his cheeks puff as he breathes. he’s beautiful. much more when you have him this close, and nothing is stopping you from what you do next. 
jungkook’s breath hitches when he feels your soft lips on his cheek. eyes nearly bulging out his sockets because he doesn’t believe his reality. this just can’t be. no one has ever shown this much interest in him. especially not someone as untouchable as you.
it lasts no longer than ten seconds, but jungkook turns into jelly within that time. you aren’t sure why you do it, but it’s the only reasonable way you could possibly come up with to show your appreciation for all he’s done. for being sweet and patient. he’s too generous for his own good. 
“thank you jungkookie, you’re so sweet.” he doesn’t even realize you’ve already pulled away and his hands are no longer feeling your heated flesh until he’s watching you walk away, hiding behind the door to your room. hoseok’s room. yours and hoseok’s room. he shouldn’t be feeling like this, but he can’t help the way his stomach twists in knots. 
jungkook is left completely speechless, confused. 
he shamefully walks back to his own room with no other word, skipping his night routine completely. fuck skincare, he can go a night without it. he’ll manage. 
that night, hoseok arrives fairly early. well at least, earlier than usual. you’re still awake when you feel his hand on your hip, feeling his lips pecking the tip of your ear. 
“you’re home?” 
“yeah, got off a bit earlier than expected. did you eat?” he asks quietly, thoughtful enough to not disturb others. hoseok’s lips still softly kissing behind your ear, practically making you melt into the bed. if you could purr, you are more than sure you’d start purring right about now. hoseok has always been very hands-on, it’s what you adore about him. always making it known how much he wants and needs you. 
“i did. have you?” you ask to be polite, though you most likely already know the answer. hoseok may be busy, but he never skips his meals. his discipline is insane. he’s busy, but not ever enough to starve himself. he cares about his mental and physical being just as much as everything else. and he plans on keeping it that way for as long as he lives. 
“yeah. they brought take-out from that one place in downtown you like.” 
that calls for your slightest attention, shifting your face from your pillow to face him, even in the dark your eyes find his. “zuki’s?”
“mhm.” hoseok steals a kiss like this, sharing a breath as he continues. “that very one.”
“lucky.” you pout, sadly with cramps still lingering around your pelvic area. 
“yeah… i brought you some.” he says so nonchalantly. 
the older laughs when he feels you shove yourself, full force onto him, hugging him with all your might. “really?!”
“yes, left it in the fridge for tomorrow.” hoseok pauses, fingers tangled in your blow dried hair and breathes in your sweet fresh scent. “unless you wanna eat a late night meal then be my guest.” 
“well, i just got my period so...” you contemplate that damn meal, almost sorta justifying your not-so-healthy options.
“then let’s go. i’ll sit with you while you eat.” your boyfriend decides for you instead, tugging you up very gently without another word. 
there’s was nothing more to say or decide, hoseok watched as you ate the meal very pleasantly, humming here and there, devouring it all in minutes. you were a very happy, happy girl. and hoseok was a happy man watching you eat so easily. he’d do it all over again if it meant he could see that perfect smile all the time. 
and like that, you forget all about today and what made you upset. you are so stupid to think he could ever not love you and care for you. who else than him. even if you have heavily committed your mistakes, so has he, but he loves you, and nothing else matters. 
but then again, in another room, jungkook is tearing himself up for it. even though, he’s not really at fault. is he? it sure feels like it is anyways. 
at least, it felt that way after beating his cock raw and swollen. flashbacks from earlier crowding his virgin-mind. he’s so so fucked, it’s laughable. pathetic really.
jungkook tries so hard to ignore it and at first he succeeds, but then he hears a bubble of laughter coming from the room beside him and he knows he’s been beaten once again. 
“i love you.” 
“i love you too baby.” 
that’s the last thing jungkook hears before he falls into a deep sleep, eventually succumbing to his exhaustion and overthinking mess. the crowding anxious thoughts die for the first time that night.
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indydonuts · 2 days
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Ideal partner for Sanji?💚
Hi Anon! Sorry it took a minute to answer your ask buuuuut, I've been thinking about this one for a good chunk of the day.
First, we're gonna go with an afab/female partner because that's what I default to.
Second, I like relationships that play off each other's strengths and weaknesses, so we're gonna start with some of Sanji's flaws.
Two things we know about our sweet prince are: he wants to be the white knight/hero who saves the girl, and he bases his self-worth entirely on how useful he can be. Even his fantasy about saving the girl, is rooted in his need to be useful (save the girl) to be valuable (read:loved.)
Sanji wants someone to protect and dote on, but what he needs is someone who teaches him that he doesn't have to constantly prove himself. Simply existing is enough to receive love and affection. (He's kenough.)
To me, an ideal partner for Sanji would be someone who is capable and independent. They do not need (or want) him to get all their snacks and drinks and wait on them hand and foot.
It's going to throw him for a loop at first. He probably is going to think they hate him, but I think ultimately it will force him to be a bit more open and sincere. (Not that his desire to help others is insincere, but with women especially, he uses it to hide all his insecurities and perceived flaws.)
Now, to reader's flaws. Again, someone who is independent and capable, but in addition to that, they would be the kind of person who keeps others at arms length and has a huge need to prove themselves all the time. They've been deeply hurt before and closed themselves off from others in order to prevent it from happening again. In response to this, they feel like they have to be able to do every little thing. Asking for help is not an option. Help leads to reliance, which leads to complacency, which leads to dead.
Ironically, deep down, they both have the same fear, being unlovable. It just manifested in very different ways.
So, how do they help each other grow? By tempering each other's shortcomings with their own. They start as opposites and end up balancing each other out. Reader's refusal of his help will slowly morph into conversations about how it's okay to say no.
I've always had this headcanon that Nami takes advantage of Sanji's willingness to do anything he's ask. I know it's part of the womanizing gag and I don't think Nami is intentionally malicious about it either, but at some point Sanji would learn to say, "Can you give me a few minutes?" or "I'm so sorry Nami-swan, I'm just too busy right now."
On the flip side, Sanji would slowly wear the Reader down when it comes to accepting help. It starts when he stops trying to wait on her hand and foot and turns into genuine talks about being part of a crew, the need to work together, etc. There is probably a close call in a fight or something where she really needed a hand but was too stubborn to ask for it and Sanji gets mad because she or some others got hurt.
Last thing, I think it would be more fun to have a tomboyish reader instead of a more feminine one. On one hand I think it will blow Sanji out of the water when she does dress up and I also think there's room to play with a reader who is insecure a out her appearance and Sanji can build her up.
Anyway, this turned into more of a character analysis than I intended and might not be what you had in mind, but I appreciate the ask all the same!!
TL;DR: Sanji needs a girl who is just as resistant to asking for help as he is willing to give it and only then can they both learn to chill the fuck out and be okay with themselves and their needs.
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livelaughlovesubs · 2 days
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what do you think bsd men would be with a girl who is really hyperfeminine (ex loves sanrio, short skits and stuff) but still loves topping?
It literally does not matter what you like and how you look as long as you click. (Also tell me if you want any specific characters I didn’t mention)
I imagine them not minding it neither way, because you can wear a skirt or pants and still fuck them into oblivion. Though there are some that might get fooled by your appearance. It’s the first impression after all.
Dazai would probably tease you about it from time to time, “when I first saw you, I thought you were such a nice and innocent girl! Who knew you were into such freaky stuff?” He’d joke about it all the time, just to provoke you. Then he’d add, “but I love all woman, even if you are a beast in bed.” And wink at you. Now it’s your choice what you will do to him later, maybe you should punish that cheeky tongue of his.
Atsushi would probably be a bit embarrassed, that he needs a girl to take care of him, especially if you are shorter or look younger than him. You just have to assure him it’s alright to feel this way, and it’s alright to show emotions, cry, whatever. He gets embarrassed easily, or flustered, so it’s almost the same no matter what body Typ. You could be taller than him and hug him from behind, he’d blush already. Or as mentioned be shorter and nuzzle into his chest, and he’ll turn red. Also if you flirt with him, and he does catch on, then it really doesn’t matter if you look very feminine or not, he’d be nervous and fumbling with his thumbs the entire time.
Kunikida, I gotta say, he feels like the traditional reserved type of person, though secretly (unbeknownst to him) also a freak. Probably wrote in his book something about a nice and healthy relationship, a girly girl who is mature and gentle, and vanilla. Maybe someone who works part time so that they could take care of the household? He works full time after all. So consider him surprised when he found out about you, cuz your appearance made him believe you were very.. well, basic. (There is nothing wrong with basic) though to think you’d make him so such humiliating stuff.. you better not leave him now, not after seeing all those sides of him.
Sigma likes people who knows what they want and want to be, who can decide. Because he has a few problems with his identity. That’s why he really admires how you carry yourself, and know what you like. Fashion wise or others. You know what you like and you stand behind it, go for it girl. Also, I think sigma likes the high fashion, like a small hobby he has, so he’d love to go shopping with you and discuss outfit ideas. He probably enjoys a wide range of styles.
Fyodor also thought you would be a total sub, he just guessed. Turns out he guessed completely wrong, his mistake, can he make up by drinking a shot? Anyway, as long as you are useful, he doesn’t really care how you present yourself. The skills are what’s important. But to be honest, at first, he was trying to find a very traditional partner. It’s what he believes in. A good wife who cooks and takes care of the house, and obeys. That’s what he was looking for, if he wanted a relationship in the first place. It’s what’s written in the bible, he wanted to follow it. After spending a night with you, he had to think about it again. It felt too good to give up, and honestly, just because you top or dom doesn’t mean you won’t fulfil the requirements, no? Even if you didn’t, well, he was god’s chosen one he can make a special case just for you.
Nikolai would ask you to dress up as a clown with him. If you refuse, he’ll keep asking. So yea, he doesn’t really care what you like or look, he will make you into clowns and magic shows. It’s a part of getting closer to him, there is no roundabout. (Rip those who have a phobia against clowns, but if you do why would you like Nikolai in the first place) jokes aside, I’m sure he won’t really force you into liking all that. Probably…
Chuuya would find it pretty practical, cuz similar to sigma, you know what you like or who you are so you are easy to read. He doesn’t need to think that long to guess what kind of stuff you’d like, it’s practical. But he’ll still take ages to find the *perfect* present for you. Most of the time he’ll buy more than one, if you don’t like it throw it away. If you are even shorter than him, it’d boost his ego, cuz, yea, short people struggles. Though that ego would be gone after you show him who’s top, and he’d be pouting for a while. He thought he could finally stand over someone! He was taller but somehow he didn’t feel like he actually was! It’s not a negative feeling though, not at all. And you being girly didn’t matter, you look gorgeous anyway. Just say the word and he will silence anyone who thinks otherwise.
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jinkiezzsstuff · 19 hours
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Hi hi! I have a request^^
Can you write about a fem!bratty (optionally bunny) reader and how they would handle them? Sitting on either Alastor, Vox or Val's (whomever you're most comfy writing about💗) lap and how they would react to that, ending up in spicy scenes? Only if you're okay with writing that sweetheart.
ouuu i really wanted to do val because i’ve never done him before! and i think it’s obvious but just so we’re all clear laddies i do not like valentinos abusive behaviour however he’s got personality in the show outside of that, that’s what we like not the abuse. this didn’t get too spicy i hope that’s okay! just a little teasing, maybe ill do a part two who knows. :)
warnings: toxic relationship on both sides, aphrodisiac mentioned but not the trope, bunny fem reader, exhibitionism, briefly mentioned that valentino has hit reader - she likes it, brat reader, yall are both fucked up fr fr, i don’t know vals sexuality whether it’s gay or bi but here he’s bi, reader is a princess too, whiny like me fr, and a porn star although not explicitly explained
word count: 999
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Valentino was the veteran of brats, so he wasn’t surprised when coming across them, however he knew how to take care of them; you however were an absolute pain. You made Valentino equal amounts of horny and enraged, you forced yourself into the princess role within the studio, you would whine and cry whenever you didn’t want to do a certain scene or role. If you’re cute little bunny self hadn’t made him bucks- he would’ve gotten rid of you long ago, you opposed him at every given chance and met his angry while cheeky grins and coy remarks. It infuriated him, he had no idea how you behaved in your life but it was clear a little bruise and fear wouldn’t put you in your place- but rather invoke more disrespect. You were hoppin on thin ice.
Ears drooping, you sat at the booth, arms crossed, lips pouting as you looked at your boss lounging with both men and women sinners alike, while you were being punished for being snooty on set. He found the best way to give you a proper punishment was to give you nothing at all, regardless of whether it was cruelty or kindness you liked having his attention, so instead he would take it away. Thumping your foot against the floor you watched as he ogled at the women and men, whispering vulgarities to them while simultaneously trying to hook them up in the industry.
It boiled your blood, Valentino was your game, your fun, and when he wasn’t there to play with you, whether it be violent, casual or sexual, it was all your mind could think about. You liked being Valentino's little princess, his little brat. Your bunny nose twitched, smelling the hot pink aphrodisiac smoke that wafted toward you. You admired Valentino from the small distance across the table as he lounged back, two of his arms across the back of the booth seats, one holding his pipe and the last on his drink. Valentino was no doubt crude, but he was also comedic, that’s what continually pulled you back in, was that he had such a personality despite being so hyper sexual and abusive.
You sipped your drink, picking at the salt on the rim with your bedazzled nail. Your eyes never left him, but he wouldn’t even meet your eyes, purposefully glazing over your figure. It was so frustrating, you could feel your heart rate increasing as your thoughts took off, fantasising about all the ways you could get him back. “We gotta go daddy, so sorry,” One sinner cooed before her and the other two women with her stood, said their goodbyes and left. Now it was just Valentino, two other guys and yourself. For the first time tonight a cute little smile graced your face, while mischief flooded your mind as you plotted to get Valentinos attention.
Standing from your seat, your every move was very intentional, your hand dragged across the table as you slid yourself out, nails scratching softly as you did. Slowly and purposefully, you made your way to the other side of the table where Valentino sat, your movements slow as you watched his body language. He wasn’t back down, instead busied himself with conversation, asking silly little business questions with the other incubus’. Sliding back down, Valentino didn’t stop you when you nudged yourself into his lap. Instead two sets of arms opened encasing you instantaneously making a dangerous warmth bloomed through you.
Valentino continued to pay no mind even as you played with the rings on his fingers, even when you seductively dipped you finger in his cup and sucked it clean. His buddy’s did though, eyeing your deceptively cutesy bunny form, watching you blink up at Valentino with yearning in your eyes wishing you were looking at them like that. Growling, Valentino tried his hardest to ignore your tactics, however it progressively got more difficult as you wiggled around on his lap.
“Bunny, don’t make me show you not to test me.~” Valentino sang out, one of his fingers caressing the side of your face. Looking behind your shoulder up at him with your big black bunny eyes, you innocently blinked up at him, your ears twitching. “What do you mean papi.” You whined slightly condescendingly, fluttering your lashes definitely tempting fate. “Oh please, I’ll have you bent over this table for testing me in public, you wanna play? Let’s play.” He hunched down and stuck out his tongue to flick up your neck. You shivered at the feeling of his warm tongue, his pink saliva staining your skin. You shivered in delight intoxicated by the smell of his smoke and potent cologne.
You obviously didn’t stop, and Valentino got progressively more frustrated at your defiance. One on his hands danced down the curves of your body, when he reached then hem of your pants, he lazily slid his hand down to cup the entirety of your mound with his long hands. You whined, circling your hips, unashamed at the two other men watching. Valentino continued to talk to the two guys about getting some new furniture for different scenes, completely ignore you as his fingers and palm lazily moved along your vulva.
Gripping the table, you groaned, leaning back onto Valentinos chest. “Look at you being such a little whore, all for me mm how erotic.” Valentino dragged out his words with a playful hint to his voice but only because he was playing the game, your guys’ favourite game. His fingers trailed up to lightly circle your clit sending shockwaves up your body. Valentino lowered his pipe to your lips and without hesitation you opened and inhaled his toxins letting whatever he had infect you. With a sigh your body melted into him, your legs spread wide for his access, you could already feel yourself soaking the fabric covering you. You simply leaned back and enjoyed the pleasure lost in the haze of his smoke and touch.
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antianakin · 22 hours
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This is a random thought I just had, but for the people that say Anakin’s special training is how Ahsoka survived order 66, couldn’t you also argue that the same training taught his soldiers ( the same ones that would storm the temple with him ) how to kill Jedi more effectively?
I think that, in part, that's supposed to be the ironic tragedy of that entire episode. Anakin's special training helps Ahsoka survive, but it's also (theoretically) giving those specific clones a lot of training on how to take down a Jedi. Anakin's training helps Ahsoka as much as it puts her in danger. Anakin is by nature sort-of contradictory in a lot of his relationships because these people love him and he betrays them all, and their feelings about him in the aftermath all have to sort-of deal with that contradiction. How do you love someone who betrayed you like that, and what does it say about you if you do?
That being said, it doesn't take a hell of a lot to take out a Jedi when the Jedi in question is unable to try to escape or take them out in return somehow. Ahsoka in reality does a lot of running and jumping into vents and knocking some of the clones out and closing doors with the Force to keep some of the clones from surrounding her. She's RESOURCEFUL. She's never just standing still while surrounding and only able to block for longer than like 5 seconds. MAYBE 10. And even then, she's still closing the doors and ultimately jumps away into a vent. So the whole thing where she can withstand a barrage of stun bolts for 5 minutes is just ludicrous, it's not actually USEFUL and we know this because she DOESN'T FUCKING USE IT.
So while the training MIGHT help the clones figure out how to overwhelm a Jedi better, it's also only useful to them when the Jedi can't really do anything to really defend themselves and get away from the situation, which is what MOST Jedi in that situation WOULD do.
We also know via Order 66 that what actually takes out the Jedi isn't an inability to block for five minutes straight, but being suddenly and unexpectedly surrounded by people you trust who suddenly want you dead. It takes the Jedi a few seconds to even REACT to that revelation and in those few seconds, they die. Ahsoka is COMPLETELY prepared in this training, she's not dealing with any kind of emotional turmoil while doing it, so her ability to do well in this isn't actually indicative of how well she'd do in a situation like Order 66. The ONLY real thing that saves her is that Rex hesitates, so she GETS those few seconds to comprehend what's happening and come up with a course of action to protect herself that NO ONE ELSE GETS. If Rex hadn't hesitated, Ahsoka would be dead. The sudden betrayal of people she trusted who overwhelm and surround her would've killed her without question. Anakin's training would've been useless for her. And the clones would not have NEEDED any special training to overwhelm and surround her, they already DID by just being there with her.
So while I think the POINT of the episode is that yes, there's an inherent tragedy in this training being what helps her survive AND something that probably makes it HARDER for her survive Anakin's eventual betrayal, I don't think the training is useful for anybody quite honestly. It's just stupid and pointless all around and Ahsoka and the clones all had better things to do with their time than this.
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queen-haq · 2 days
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Fic: Never You (Penelope x Colin) - Part 5
Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)
Spoilers: S3 released scenes.
Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn’t giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.
Excerpt:
“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”
“Of course you would think that.”
“What else is this if not punishment?”
Masterlist (contains links to previous parts and my other stories)
Part 5
“Open the door this instant, Penelope!”
Hearing the banging on her door and her mama’s voice yelling from the other side, Penelope quickly put away her writing materials. The newest Lady Whistledown column sheet was almost ready. She had planned to complete it while Prudence and Portia were busy entertaining callers this afternoon only to be interrupted repeatedly. Irritated, she walked to the door and opened it, allowing Portia Featherington to barge in.
In her mother’s hands was a lovely bouquet of lilies which Portia placed on the nearby desk.
“The Bridgerton boy is here.” There was no mirth on Portia’s face, her striking eyes gleaming as she confronted Pen.
“Is he?”
“Which, I know, you’re already aware of because Mrs. Varley came up here to inform you.”
Pen kept her mouth shut.
“Is there a reason you turned down his invitation for a promenade?”
“I don’t feel well.”
“Not good enough, Penelope! When a gentleman comes to call on you, you must always say yes!”
“Even on our deathbeds,” Pen muttered under her breath.
“Yes, even then,” Portia retaliated. “Martha!” She screamed, calling for Penelope’s maid. “Wear something suitable for your walk with that boy. There will be others who see you in the park.”
“I thought he left?”
“Fortunately, he did not.”
“Mama, he’s not courting me. We’re just friends. You know that, right?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s a Bridgerton. Where he leads, others will follow and that is the only thing working in your favour in your advanced age.”
And with that statement Portia stormed out, leaving Pen alone with Martha in her chamber.
“These flowers are beautiful, Miss. I’ll put them in water.”
Pen watched as Martha busied herself with the vibrant, varying colors of the bouquet. In one of their letters she had mentioned to Colin about her newfound appreciation of lilies, and apparently he had kept that in mind.
“Shall I fetch the orange dress for you, Miss?” Martha asked, returning to her.
“No, the pale green one please. And the matching shawl.”
As Martha scurried about, Pen took a deep breath to calm her nerves.
***
Penelope exited her home and headed down the stairs, Martha following behind her. Her mother was watching them through the window, taking note of everything going on, and Pen didn’t want to give her mama anything new to harp about. Colin, of course, was using her reticence to his full advantage. He stood on the sidewalk, a wicked smirk on his face, looking more handsome than any gentleman had a right to. Pen ignored the flutter of butterflies in her stomach, reminding herself how angry she was at him. What she wanted to do was take him to task for calling on her when she repeatedly asked him not to. Instead, she was forced to greet him with a stiff smile.
“Mr. Bridgerton,” she said coldly, stopping in front of him.
His smirk transitioned into a full smile. “Pen,” he said with a deliberate languid drawl, trying to goad her no doubt.
“Mama is at the window.”
“I’m aware.” Colin’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Shall we promenade?”
Penelope glanced over her shoulder and found her mother watching her like a hawk. She turned back to Colin. “Forcing me into this wasn’t very gentlemanly of you.”
He quirked his eyebrow. “Perhaps I’m no longer a gentleman.”
“Maybe you never were.”
She wanted to offend him but he seemed impervious to her taunts, instead offering her his arm for their walk together. Aggravated, she ignored him and started down the path by herself. Within seconds he was next to her, his long strides now matching her own pace, with Martha following behind them.   
“Did you like the lilies?” Colin asked.
“I did not.”
He simply smiled. “That’s unfortunate. Maybe I’ll bring roses in the future.”
“Absolutely not!” she huffed. “Mama will get the wrong idea.”
“We are friends, Penelope,” he reminded her. “Friends give each other gifts. We’ve exchanged them in the past.”
“Never in front of Mama!”
“And I’ve visited you before,” he insisted.
“No, you haven’t. We’ve always only spoken at your home or social gatherings. In fact the only other time you came with flowers was to call on Marina.” The grimace on his face made her heart squeeze with envy. Even after all this time simply saying her cousin’s name evoked such a strong reaction in him. But as much as the idea of him still harboring feelings for Marina hurt, she wasn’t going to let pain distract from her focus. “I can’t have you encouraging foolish ideas in Mama’s head.”
He clenched his jaw, agitated. “Is this really about Lady Portia or are you worried your mystery suitor will get jealous?”
She stopped midstride, turning to level him with a hostile glare. “He knows there’s nothing between you and me.”
Colin took a step towards her. The blues of his eyes darkened, blazing with emotion. “Even after last night?” His voice was a throaty murmur, his words only meant for her ears.
Her heart quickened, His gaze drifted down to her lips, pausing momentarily, as if he was remembering touching her, the feel of his hot mouth on her skin. And then his sight travelled lower, to where he licked and kissed her chest, and the lovebites he left on her breasts that she had to scrupulously hide behind a scarf this morning lest her mother noticed. The way he was looking at her set her body on fire, she felt it intimately between her legs.
They were surrounded by people, yet it felt like it was only the two of them. As she found herself drowning in the depth of his eyes, the world ceased to exist.
And then the image of his panic-stricken expression flashed through her mind, reminding her of how horrified he was after kissing her.
Instantly she pulled away, turning away from him. She started walking faster, trying to regain her composure in the few short seconds it took for Colin to catch up to her.
“You can’t pretend it didn’t happen, Pen.”
“You’re right, I can’t. But that doesn’t mean I’ll allow a moment of foolishness to sway me from what’s important.”
“I know you. You wouldn’t have kissed me that way if you really loved someone else.”.
It was the conceit in his words that infuriated her. “Is that so, Colin?” She turned to confront him. “Didn’t you proudly claim to have flirted with half the women in London? I’m sure you’ kissed many of them. Will you stand there and tell me you cared for all of them? That all those ladies held a special place in your heart? Or will you be honest and admit a kiss can just be a kiss without it meaning anything?”
His eyes narrowed onto her. “Do you expect me to believe our kiss meant nothing to you?”
“Don’t treat me like a naïve debutante, Colin. I’m fully aware passion can exist without love.”
“But that wouldn’t be true for us, would it?” He didn’t move, yet it felt like his body swayed closer, encroaching on her personal space, making it impossible for her to think. Even breathe. “Because there is love between us. There always has been.”
Her heart pounded in her chest. For so long she’d yearned for his love, ached for it. Over the years there were so many times she thought herself a fool for even thinking he could love her. But then he would seek her out in a crowd to dance with her, they would talk about things they dare not discuss with others, and the hope in her heart would bloom despite her insecurities. Just like it did now. “Speak clearly, Colin. Do you love me?”
“Of course I love you. I’ve loved you since we were children. You’re my dearest friend.”
“But are you in love with me?”
“Are you?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. There were children playing in the park, families around them talking and laughing. Yet all she felt was Colin’s piercing gaze tear through her, the air thick with tension as the minutes ticked by. “Yes. Even though I desperately wish I wasn’t.”
His face ran the whole gamut of emotions, from utter shock to panic to fear. “I… Pen…”
“You’re not in love with me,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“No.”
His response didn’t come as a surprise, she had always known the truth. And despite the pain that wracked through her, she felt relief. Because she would no longer have to wonder. Now there was certainty and it brought with it a strong desire to move on.
There was much trepidation in his voice as he spoke next. “I’m sorry if I-”
“There’s no need to apologize.” Her voice was calm, steady. “You haven’t done anything wrong.” She glanced behind him, her eyes absently taking in the view behind. “We can’t help who we love.” There was a numbness that slowly spread through her, enveloping her heart, her very being.
“I care for you, Pen. And I know you, you’re kind and sweet and want to see the best in people. Which is why I’m worried-.”
“You don’t know me,” she replied, snapping out of her daze.  His face came back into focus, along with the rest of the world. “Not really. You’ve only seen certain facets, parts that I’ve chosen to show. I’ve always been so worried about what others would think, of being palatable to my family, to you and Eloise, to society… and for what? What was even the point?” She started pacing, her mind reeling.
As much as she aspired to be good, she could never fully commit to it. Lady Whistledown was borne from the part of her that wanted retribution against the ton for always ignoring her. In the clear light of day she was voiceless and unwanted, but in the shadows was where she thrived, where her words meant something and she had value and control. There was a time when she used to think the different parts of her could coexist and she could still be more good than bad, but Eloise’s words during their last argument proved otherwise.
“What are you talking about?” He blocked her path, forcing her to look up at him. A confused expression marked his beautiful face. ”I’ve always known who you are.”
She peered up at him. Everything he said about her – kind and sweet and only seeing the best in people – was actually true of Colin himself. He deserved someone who was equally beautiful and kind, and that would never be her.   “You’ve been a good friend, to me and my family. And I appreciate your concern but I can look out for myself. Arthur is a good man-”
“Arthur?” The sudden vitriol in Colin’s voice was sharp. “Arthur what?”
“That’s not important,” she said dismissively. “What matters is you no longer have to worry about me, Colin. I absolve you of that responsibility.”
“You do, do you?” Anger laced his voice, his eyes growing dark with contempt. “Because of this Arthur?” He took a step forward, crowding her, the proximity between them so close that she could feel his breath humming her skin, could almost feel the touch of his fingers against her gloves. “Tell me, Penelope, does he know you?  Did you show him all the parts of you that you claim to have kept hidden from the rest of us?”
Irritation surged through her at his mocking tone, but she reminded herself to be patient. “He understands me better than most.”
“A man you’ve known for mere months?” Colin’s eyes glistened with fury. “Why does he get that privilege? What has he done to earn your trust so easily?”
The hate in his voice took her by surprise. “Why are you behaving this way, Colin? I thought you would be happy for me.”
Jaw clenched, anger masking his features, his eyes roamed over her face. “You expect me to live a life without you in it and be happy about it?”
“So what should I do, be a spinster for the rest of my life to appease you? Do you not see how selfish that is?”
“I don’t give a damn!”
Penelope noticed the glances thrown in their direction, the look of concern in Martha’s face. Even though Colin hadn’t raised his voice, the tension on his face made it clear they were having an argument. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm him down. “This isn’t who you are, Colin.”
“Isn’t it? Maybe it’s you who doesn’t know me.” He dipped his head lower, his eyes smoldering with rage. “Maybe I’ve always been unreasonable and selfish. Maybe I’m willing to do whatever it takes to protect the people who matter to me.”
She didn’t know if the threat in his voice was deliberately meant to scare her but it elicited the opposite reaction, provoking her anger. “You’re not my guardian or my protector. I’m not your responsibility. I don’t need anything from you.”
Instead of backing off, his voice grew more determined. “You don’t have a choice in this matter, Penelope. I will not lose you.”
“Except I’m not yours to lose. I do not belong to you. You don’t get to make demands on me when you don’t even love me,” she reminded him coldly. “I will marry the man I choose and live the life I want. And it’s you who has no say in that matter.”
Feeling strongly in her resolve, she turned and walked away.
To be continued...
A/N - Thank you for reading. If you have the time, I'd love to read your feedback!
42 notes · View notes
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Why do you think ppl in fandom have a stronger reaction to rape than murder and cannibalism? Honestly I find it really annoying how they act like they're less horrible crimes than rape. part of me feels like the reason of ppl's disdain for valentino is because he's abusing a fan favourite character like Angel...idk if angel was just another nobody ppl wouldn't cared that much but I could be wrong.
Well the topic of rape generates a stronger emotional response because for at least half of the population it's a very real threat so watching it in the series hits too close to home. I don't think many people are notoriously afraid of cannibals but so many people are forced to constantly think about the threat of potential sexual assault. Everytime I meet a new man I have this thing crawling under my skin, anxious expectation for something bad happen to me, especially when he's charming, popular and handsome; I know I'm not alone in this. Watching those fears depicted on screen is way scarier than seeing Hannibal Lecter making Wellington out of some poor fucker. After all Angel could be me if I'm not "careful enough". So I think that's perfectly fine for people to hate Val or feel uncomfortable watching him and don't have same feelings towards Alastor or Adam. I just don't like when someone uses some global morality as an argument in this discourse because it just a matter of emotional reaction to faction.
Dunno despite my rather healthy relationship with fiction for me it's Adam and Lute that make me uncomfortable. I can interact with these characters only in the realm of memes because for the last 6 months I've been daily seeing what word genocide really means so I don't really wish to dive into minds of people commiting one. That's what scares me. At the same time I don't think that Adam stans support genocide or that I have any moral superiority over them.
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animeyanderelover · 9 hours
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Hi 🌸Can I request Hashirama,Tobirama,Madara,Itachi,Sasuke,pein ,Indra,Shisui and Tsunade with a darling that has a weaken immune system so they are often sick?Thank you 👽
@shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan
Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, overprotective behavior, clinginess, stalking, isolation
Darling has a weak immune system
Indra Otsutsuki
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💜​There is a tiny part that obviously enjoys your weak condition because it enables him to have better control over you. Since you are so often sick as you are, you have very little chances of trying to escape him nor do you have the needed strength to fight him. Instead you are one way or another forced to rely on him and you'd be a fool to think that he doesn't enjoy your dependency on him. Yet there is always a limit with Indra and it is the sheer amount of times you fall ill that manages to get on his nerves. Yes, you have no control over it since you have always had a weak immune system but that doesn't stop him from using this annoyed and irritated tone when he talks to you. Indra doesn't want to be degraded to your personal nurse yet he is as he hasn't really allowed you to see anyone else since he has abducted you. Considering your frail health though, he eventually sees himself forced to assign a medic to you who is tasked to take care of you in his absence.
💜​Indra has better things to do than caring for you the entire day but at the same time he isn't heartless enough to leave you to battle on your own so hiring a medic seems like the best choice. Since the medic is much more trained than Indra is though, he expects them to do an excellent job now that they were assigned to you. They would also do better to know that their only task is nursing you back to health whenever you are sick. Indra is aware that this medic will be your only daily social interaction next to him but he would hate for you to get attached which is why he clarifies via intimidation and threats that he doesn't want them to entertain your feeble hopes of bonding with someone else and potentially even getting their help. There are a lot of doctors out there so if they dare to displease him, he will murder them and just find someone else. He is very surveiling even if he also spends time training to see if the medic has done a good job taking care of you.
Madara Uchiha
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🌑​Ever since Madara has announced you as the spouse he wants, the elders haven't given him a day of rest. It has come as a huge shock to all of them that from all potential spouses they had suggested, he has chosen you. What witchery did you even use to gain Madara's interest even with your delicate health? Surely he is joking as it is unacceptable for him to marry someone who is as weak and feeble as you are. When Madara fights back though, they all know that he is serious. What you lack in your health is after all more than made up in your temper and your sharp tongue. Maybe it is the constant pain of illness that makes you as grumpy as you are but even if he knows that he shouldn't think about it this way, to Madara your angry mood is adorable. You are almost rivaling him in your sheer stubbornness as you are unwilling to yield to your body and gladly ignore the doctor's advice to do what you wish to do. As you always say, it's all mental. Very cute.
🌑​You can only get that far though until Madara has to stop you by lifting you up and carrying you back to your room. Don't get him wrong, he admires your fighting spirit but he'll only let you push your body that far. He wouldn't want you to strain your immune system even more than it is already. Only the best medics are allowed to attend to your needs and even if you refuse their help, Madara has the last word. If you refuse to take the medicine when you are especially ill, he will gladly help to get it past your lips and down your throat and drag you back to your futon if he catches you in an attempt to escape your room. He only lets a handful of people visit you in your room and the elder definitely don't belong to those guests. Madara is surprisingly accepting of your weak immune system overall because he respects that you power through it all with such determination. He just expects you to not be dumb and push your body to a limit that will only cause you more suffering.
Hashirama Senju
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🌳​His clan is going to give him an earful when they find out that he plans to marry you as they expected more. Hashirama is a man blessed with power and skills beyond imagination and to think that he would choose you from all people is a pill hard to swallow for many of the Senju clan. Honestly, Hashirama is busy with other things than worrying about what his clan thinks. He has to take care of you after all. Hashirama is already under normal circumstances a pretty obsessive man but with your frail health, you are even more on his mind than you would be normally. He loathes it when he has to sit in his office and has to work even if he is also dedicated to his position as the Hokage. He's wondering how you are doing and if you're fine in this moment and it often causes him to space out as his mind wanders to you. It can be pretty bad at times and Tobirama has been lecturing him for it every time. To allow his brother to focus on his work, him and Mito are volunteering to look after you when he's in his office.
🌳​Whilst Hashirama knows that you are in good hands when Tobirama or Mito are looking out after you, he still finds himself spacing out. Sometimes he's begging his brother if he can do all the paperwork at home where he can be with you and he has to deliver all of the work finished to Tobirama so that his younger brother can be sure that Hashirama has done his job instead of just doting on you. The Hokage is quite clingy and caring whenever he is with you though as he makes sure to give you support and enough love. He is very overprotective due to your poor immune system but he's also very prone to feel affected by your own feelings. He understands and he feels your frustration as you hate being isolated and stuck like this most of the time. In order to keep you happy, he makes sure to take you out as soon as you are in a better condition, even if he usually accompanies you to be prepared if anything should happen to you. After all Hashirama is skilled in medical jutsu too and can help you when you need medical assistance.
Tobirama Senju
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🌊​Tobirama is already pretty prepared when it comes to surveiling his darling since they might be targeted due to his position as the Second Hokage. With the situation at hand that you are often prone to falling ill, he tightens the security around you even more. He is very picky as he selects a few medics who will cater to your needs during the time where he is in his office and doing his work and only those who meet his high expectations will be chosen. Any arguments the elder of his clan may try to have with him will be mercilessly cut short by him. He is a busy man and he has not as much time for a meaningless dispute as those people might think, even if he highly respects his clan. His decision remains firm though so really, it'll be no use to argue with him over his choice of partner as Tobirama is very stubborn and determined once he has chosen someone for himself. You have other qualities he respects about you after all as he knows that you can't really control your immune system.
🌊​He studies more medical ninjutsu ever since he has fallen in love with you as he is pretty dedicated to keep you as healthy as possible by not only relying on others but also by using his own skills. Similar to Madara he expects you not be reckless though by pushing your limits and he is going to be quite strict about any instructions he or your other medics give you as those are given for you to feel better and not for you to ignore them and risk to make everything even worse. Don't be too stubborn. If you have work that you still want to continue even despite your constantly ill health, Tobirama does his best to find a way to enable you to do work even when you are ill. Surely you can do some paperwork from home too if you are too sick to go outside. He's actually very mindful to never insult you for your sick body as he knows that no one is more frustrated about it than you are and is very pissed if someone were to insult you for it.
Tsunade Senju
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🐌​Tsunade is going to be just like her grandfather quite the mother hen as she is almost constantly making a fuss over your sick condition. Since she is a medic, the best one to exist next to the pupils she is personally training, she is also very fixated on being the one to cater to your health and to your needs. This desire to take care of you stands in conflict to her position as the Fifth Hokage as she also has other work to do. It needs the combined power of Shizune and Sakura to see it through that she does her paperwork instead of only spending her time with you whilst her two students keep an eye on you in the meantime. They know that their sensei is very sceptical to let someone else take care of you aside from her so it is always the easiest to promise Tsunade that they will look out for you as Tsunade trusts both of her students. She is quite prone to be a tad bit more unproductive though as she is with her mind constantly by you. The fine lady is maybe a tiny bit paranoid about your condition.
🐌​Whilst there is an aspect of dependence that you automatically have as you have to rely on her as your medic, Tsunade doesn't find herself enjoying this as much as some others could. She is a doctor after all who is dedicated to nurse her patients back to health and she has enough experience to know that a immune system as weak as yours can be dangerous if you were to catch a serious illness. So you often find yourself in a room in the hospital which is sanitised to lower to risk of any bacteria finding their way to you as well as limited to only a few visitors. Her heart breaks to see you so sad and lonely though so she starts searching for a way to boost your immune system somehow. She even promises you to create a medicine or a jutsu to help you and that promise she has made to you is from that day on a pressure and determination constantly on her mind as she spends hours reading books and thinking about how to go about this. She just wants to make you happy after all.
Pain
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🌧️​Not only do you happen to have a very weak immune system but you also just happen to be stuck in a cold tower in a city where the rain has never really stopped. Truly, everything just appears to be against you as you are knocked down with one fever after another and constantly suffer from something. Nagato doesn't exactly have any expertise to take the role as a medic. He has wrecked his own body beyond repair and mostly interacts with you through one of the other bodies, mainly through Yahiko's. Whilst he can keep his composure when he uses one of the other bodies of pain, his real body certainly panics at times when he comes to learn just how severely he underestimated your frail health. He was too focused on his own possessive desires when he took you as Pain and whilst he doesn't regret the act of abducting you, he is worried about how little he is actually prepared for your constant sick condition. Worst is that he is very unwilling to let anyone else besides Konan see you.
🌧️​So all the work has to fall upon Konan and his other bodies who have to get the medicine and everything else that is needed to cure you somewhat back to health. Nagato is actually worried but that concern he feels will come over as pure intimidation and forceful gestures in all of the pther bodies of Pain who force every medicine down your throat and completely isolate you within the walls of your room to lower the risk of you falling ill once again. His bodies see it through that your room is kept warm when she comments that your room isn't exactly heated and that the constant rain has made the air quite chilly. Within a few days you get a lot of blankets and other stuff to keep you warm and it would be laughable if you wouldn't have one of his bodies observing you as often as they do. It is creepy and uncomfortable even if Nagato is just intending to be more attentive by letting one of the bodies of Pain constantly watch over you. He just wants to be in control of the situation and prevent you to get even worse.
Shisui Uchiha
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🍂​You truly make it not easy for him to balance his life out the right way. Being obsessed with you is one thing but having a darling who is so prone to all illnesses is another thing that is making it even harder on his part. Shisui grows much more protective over you thanks to your weak condition and this doesn't mash well because he is a part of the Anbu and is often away on missions. He feels very conflicted, torn apart between the duty for his village and the dedication he harbors for you. He knows that he can't leave the Anbu though because a lot of people would have objections and he doesn't want to drag you into any unnecessary drama as you have already enough to deal with. Instead he just makes sure to have you surrounded by competent medics and if you don't have that just yet he makes sure to have a word with the Hokage to request him to assign some good doctors to you. Shisui just needs to be able to know that you are in good hands when he is away on missions.
🍂​He feels constantly like he wants to hover over you as he feels very protective but he knows that he has to be tactful about it as he is very careful to give no one even the slightest doubt that his feelings for you could be something much more dark. That certainly doesn't stop him from stalking you though at night but you are probably too exhausted to notice the shadow on the roof of your house who slowly makes sure to take a look inside your window. Even if you were to notice him, he would be gone within the blink of an eye which would make you dismiss it as nothing but your sick imagination. He's very sweet and attentive when he visits you, sympathetic for your obvious frustration as you are constantly sheltered due to being so physically prone to everything. At times you beg him to take you outside as you are sometimes days on end stuck in your house and your bed and whilst his heart aches a bit for you when he sees you so saddened, he is not as careless as to risk only worsening your condition. Just be patient for a bit longer.
Itachi Uchiha
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🍡​It is safe to say that Itachi has known about your feeble health long before he has kidnapped you. How couldn't he? It has caused him on numerous occasions to hesitate whenever his darker urges got the better of him. Ultimately he still gave in to his obsession but not without at least a bit of preparation. The whole cottage where he keeps you from that day on is filled with medicine, herbs and everything else he has been able to gather by learning through stalking what the doctor in your former village has always prescripted you to use. Nevertheless though Itachi feels somewhat overwhelmed. On the one hand he has to work for the Akatsuki and missions can take him weeks but now there is also you who needs attention and care due to your constant relapse of health. Itachi is stuck in an organisation he can't leave because it could endanger you but he also doesn't want to leave you alone if he really is gone for a long time. Not like you would care if he would be gone as you are very skittish around him after the abduction.
🍡​Sometimes he uses shadow clones to stay back and take care of you although there is always the risk that the jutsu may undo itself, either because of his choice or because of another factor. At least it can give him a certain amount of peace as you are in the care of one of his clones who feels about you exactly the same as he does. As soon as he undoes the jutsu, he always receives all of the memories his clone has made and is up to date with your current condition. Whenever Itachi is home though, he spends the majority of his time catering to whatever illness you have been taken down with. You may fear that he might be annoyed as he is a notorious criminal but catering to your needs grounds him and gives him a routine to his life that he appreciates. He knows he shouldn't feel this way since you are always ill but there is a joy inside of him he knows he shouldn't have. Maybe it is the isolation he has put himself through that is talking out of him but there is happiness he feels for being able to provide to the person he loves so much.
Sasuke Uchiha
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💙​There are going to be some unkind words directed against you every once in a while as Sasuke sometimes feels quite drained from your weak health condition as well. You always require special needs and his journey is often put on hold whenever you come down with the next illness he doesn't even know where you got it from. Of course his mood is sometimes strained about it but if you even suggest for a moment that he should probably leave you behind, he will very quickly make you shut up. Despite all of the troubles you put him through, he will never abandon you. Sasuke is far too possessive, controlling and loyal to ever do that to you. Especially since your health is so utterly frail would he never allow to leave you unattended and in the care of someone else. He relies on medics for the majority of the time but he soon starts picking up on some medical jutsus himself, not only to be prepared in case you should fall ill or injure yourself somewhere where no medics are around but also to take better care of you by himself.
💙​What he can find in some moments annoying, Sasuke can enjoy in other moments just as much. There is an undeniable level of dependency you have on him over time and sometimes he can't help but be smug enough to rub this under your nose. He ignores the fact that he is the one who has dragged you onto this journey in the first place because it is much more efficient for his own ego to remind you that without his help and protection you wouldn't be able to survive on your own. Not when you are constantly as weak and sickly as you are. If you should catch something very serious, Sasuke stops in the closest town to let you rest in a proper bed until he deems you to be fit enough to continue with the journey. Your common state of sickness has made him much more protective and overbearing as he has to constantly check on your current health status and never allows you to leave his vision because even the simplest thing could trigger your immune system.
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babiebom · 2 days
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Hello hello. I just recently stumbled across your blog and in celebration of the 1.6 update (and also just outta pure curiosity), I wanna ask about the SDV bachelors reactions to a farmer who's ace/uncomfortable with intercourse but still wishes to pursue a loving relationship with them. If this ask isn't up your alley, feel free to disregard it. Hope you have a good day ✌️
A/N: hiiiiiiiii!! Obligatory I am not a part of this community(I am cishet lmao) so I am just going to have to try my best!! I am not ace or aro or anything but like never feel bad for sending an ask like this!! By the time you see this it’ll probably be like next week or something bc I do take little writing breaks so it isn’t absolute trash but I hope when you see this you enjoy it!!
Tw:mentions of sex, some cursing maybe,
Bc: idk at least 5 or 6 for each bachelor
Stardew Masterlist
Sebastian
Is this a joke?
No? Okay.
Would be disappointed at first because let’s face it dude is constantly horny
But would get over it rather quickly like just because you don’t wanna have sex doesn’t mean he can’t run one out
And now that you’re dating it’s easier than ever to do that because he finds you so attractive.
So not really all that disappointing when he thinks about it, really
Sam
Dude for real? Like ever? I mean I guess that’s okay
Sex isn’t the top thing on his list so it’s fine
Like yeah he would like to have it but it’s whatever
Would rather give up skateboarding and music than give you up so not having sex is easier than that by a long shot
Can he still get kisses tho??? That’s all he’s really worried about
Shane
I think the least affected and disappointed out of the bachelors
He has more things to worry about than having sex
It’s not that he isn’t attracted to you
It’s that you loves you for you and sex is the last thing on his mind when he’s thinking about bettering himself and taking care of Jas and his chickens the list goes on
Would actually be so chill when you have this conversation like “yeah okay, that’s fine.” And would never make you feel bad about it because he honestly doesn’t mind
Elliott
Tries not to react on the outside.
I think before you two start getting hot and heavy it probably wouldn’t have come up
Because I think Elliott would want to be a gentleman and not bring it up until you do
And during a particularly heated makeout session he tries to take it further to test the waters when you stop him in his tracks
And he’s like oh…okay!
He’s good with whatever you give him
Sometimes he’s disappointed when he gets the urge but gets over it very quickly because he obviously knows how to handle those feelings himself.
Alex
“Like…at all?”
Would be high key disappointed because dude likes to fuck tbh
BUT at the same time you aren’t just some random whose pants he’s trying to get in
You’re quite literally the love of his life (if anyone asks him he will never say he believes this because he’s scared of rejection)
So it takes a minute but he accepts this with literally a “welp back to using my hand” mentality
Like when he thinks about it, sex is literally the least important aspect of your relationship, he fell for you because of who you are not because he just wants to fuck.
Harvey
I think he wouldn’t really be disappointed but like dang y’know?
Like he doesn’t care that much about sex to really be disappointed
But does enjoy the act of sex, especially with a person he’s connected to like you two are
So it’s not as far as disappointment but is still like oof okay.
Out of all the bachelors understands the lbgtq+ community better than the others so isn’t really all that surprised when you talk to him about it.
He knows what it is and doesn’t mind, you don’t have to explain yourself, you’re valid how you are he doesn’t mind and he won’t and doesn’t want to force you to do anything.
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